


To Save this Goddamn Town

by TA141



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Dark, Another KNB AU where the schools are countries/kingdoms, BAMF Generation of Miracles, BAMF Kuroko, BAMF Seirin, F/M, Graphic flashbacks, Kagami is bewildered for the better half of the story, Killer Robots, Kuroko tops from the bottom in every pairing in here, M/M, Magical Realism, Mukkun and Midorin run a pharmacy/clinic, leave your sanity at the door, like seriously, supersoldiers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-25
Updated: 2016-09-18
Packaged: 2018-05-16 02:54:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 43,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5810893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TA141/pseuds/TA141
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Twenty years ago, the tiny country of Teikou suddenly and violently rose to prominence.  Having been held at bay for centuries by the five great countries, their conquest rushed forth like a nightmare from the past.</p><p>How did they do it?</p><p>With a single army.    </p><p>One with wires for veins and engines for hearts.  Faster and stronger than even the most disciplined soldier, these machines known as the “Emperor’s Sentinels,” ravaged the lands, enslaving and massacring thousands.  Nothing and no one could stop them.</p><p>Or so it seemed.</p><p>On a job-gone-to-hell, twenty-one year old Kagami Taiga, part of the famous rebellion group Seirin, encounters a mysterious boy at the very edges of the Teikou Empire.  Through him, Taiga is taken to Kiseki, a town which has gone under the radar of the Teikou, and whose colorful residents are not all they appear to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A night on Kiseki Mountain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Taiga runs from killer robots and then chases them, meets a ghost and ponders his hatred for Haizaki Shougo.

Taiga was not a hard man to please. 

Money didn’t interest him and neither did fame. He enjoyed things like basketball, sunshine and a good burger—the simple pleasures. And it isn’t as if he’s expecting a prize at the end for it, because he isn’t, but he’d think all this humbleness would at least earn him a death with some semblance of respectability. Or, in some way that made sense anyway.

At the very least, not by some demented killer robot and laid out on the mountain for crows to go at. 

Which was beginning to look more and more likely as time went on.

“Is it still following us?” Tatsuya asked, bone-white hands clenched over the wheel.

Taiga shot a quick glance over his shoulder, scanning for that dark metallic face and contorted form, but the action may as well’ve been useless. The forests in Kiseki Mountain were thick and wet, shadows and moonlight making him see all kinds of things.

“I can’t tell,” he said, turning back, “Just keep going.”

“I wasn’t planning on stopping,” his brother snapped and pressed harder on the gas pedal. The car was beginning to groan in protest and a weird creaking nose that had started up a while ago in the hood got louder.

Taiga gripped the shotgun in his lap, trying to keep his hands from shaking. It was unbelievably fucking heavy and had only a few iron rounds left, so he knew they would have to ditch it soon along with the car. His blood shuddered at the thought.

“Do you think everyone got away?” 

“I don’t know,” Tatsuya said, his mouth a thin line, “But we can’t think about that now.”

Taiga stiffened. The words were cold, almost blunt, and while part of him wanted to protest, he knew Tatsuya had a point. The dead were dead. It had taken him two goddamn decades to learn that.

So he shut up and let his brother drive, keeping an open eye for movements out in the trees and trying not to let his mind wander back to the events that led up to this shitfest, which it inevitably did. 

It had seemed like a simple enough job. Recent sightings of sentinels around the edges of a nearby village had the headman hiring them in a panic. Being situated at the border of the Teikou Empire, the village had been left largely alone until then and the headman feared the robots were signs of an incoming invasion. At the time, Taiga hadn’t given it a thought. The squad had defended plenty of places before from the Teikou’s violent expansion plans and it hadn’t seemed any different this time around. In fact, after five years roaming these godless lands, it was pretty much clockwork.

Yeah, it was still dangerous as fuck fighting them and he didn’t know what they ran on or where the hell they kept coming from, but Taiga was finally starting to understand a few things about how they ticked.

One, that iron was the only thing that put them down for good.

And two, (and maybe more importantly as well) there were five different types of sentinels, each with their own specialized attack pattern.

Since the sentinels were all identical in build and appearance ( _all metal skin and soulless, black eyes_ ) this was something that had taken years to figure out. But God, had it made the fighting easier.

Using the serial codes found etched into the robots’ upper arms, one of his teammates, Izuki, was able to devise a rough identification system.

Units with codes G76 had some sort of X-ray vision and could detect targets from hundreds of miles away. They were incredibly resilient and served as snipers, especially notable for the wide arcs their bullets were shot at.

V59 units were the muscle, shattering concrete walls with bare fists and ripping through steel as if it were paper. They were so strong that they created gales with each punch and he couldn’t even remember how many times he’d been flung off his feet just by the winds.

B65 units had blades for fingers and were fast as fuck. Their agility was the most insane thing Taiga had ever encountered and they moved with such speed that their entire bodies seemed to morph into formless streaks. Bullets were dodged with ease and they could slit throats in a heartbeat.

The R44 unit was rare and they had never encountered one. The only reason they knew it existed at all was because they’d found the crushed remains of one washed ashore on a beach. 

Y87 units didn’t so much have their own attack style, but all of the other units’ styles combined. Izuki had named it the most dangerous and unpredictable type, but its thankfully low stamina made it possible to dispatch. 

With all this new information in use, Seirin had quickly risen to the top as one of the most successful groups out there fighting the Teikou Empire. Captain Hyuuga even began talking about training the locals to combat the sentinels as well, which could eventually have led to a full-scale rebellion. For the first time in twenty long years, Taiga had felt something like hope again.

Then Haizaki Shougo joined. 

As a recent addition to the team, he’d been a stranger and not a particularly well-liked one at that. Tatsuya was appalled by his rude, thoughtless behavior, especially towards the families of victims killed by sentinels, while the other men found his mean-spirited, often cruel ways disturbing. Personally, it was his eyes that put Taiga off. There was something…hateful about them. Almost vengeful. Especially when fighting the sentinels. 

Why in the hell had they even taken his suggestion? 

_“We torch the mountain,”_ he’d said, cigarette smoke curling beneath his teeth, _“’s where they all hang out, y’know. The sentinels. Kiseki fucking Moutain.”_

In hindsight, Taiga couldn’t even recall agreeing to the idea at all. Strategically, it had made no sense. The whole packing and suiting up process had been a blur too and the next thing he knew they were running for their lives through the bramble. The Empire had slaughtered the village while they wandered blindly in the woods, being picked off one by one by the very things they’d set out to destroy. 

Taiga swallowed, something sharp and heavy settling in his stomach. All those deaths… They were on him now. 

Goddamn it.

His teeth clenched. He couldn’t remember what had happened to Haizaki after they’d started running, but hoped to God he survived, if only so Taiga could kill him himself. 

“If I ever see that piece of shit again…”

“Taiga, I told you not to fixate,” Tatsuya said, not even looking at him, “There will be time for revenge later, when we’re not running for our lives.”

He paused, before adding quietly.

“You’ll also have to get in line.”

Taiga blinked at the rare anger simmering in his tone. Whatever he had thought up in reply however, was swiftly forgotten. When a metal face suddenly smashed into their windshield.

“SHIT!” 

On pure instinct, Taiga raised the gun and fired. Glass exploded into a million fragments and he thought he heard Tatsuya yell, before the car swerved. Taiga was thrown into the door hard, knocking the wind from him, and for a moment he saw nothing but stars. 

It cleared an instant later and he saw the sentinel, outlined in pale silver by the moon. A big black G was etched into its neck and it was reaching for Tatsuya through the windshield. 

“Get the fuck away from him!” Taiga roared, and fired again at point-blank range.

Part of the robot’s face blew clean off and he caught a split moment of sparking wires and some kind of dark liquid spurt out, before Tatsuya had shoved the body off the car.

“Taiga, in front!” he screamed and Taiga whirled, his stomach plummeting at the sight.

A lone sentinel stood in the road, barely a hundred meters ahead. Without moving or attacking, it simply stood there, as if waiting for them.

“V59,” Taiga swore, and Tatsuya must’ve figured this out at about the same time, since he suddenly slammed on the brakes. The tires squealed as he wrenched the wheel and Taiga found himself tossed backwards again, narrowly avoiding cracking his skull on the frame. Tatsuya’s teeth were clenched, his eye wide.

“Brace yourself!” 

Taiga had barely processed the words, before the car had smashed into the robot, the momentum driving all of them into the side of a tree. Pain blossomed white hot across his side. Taiga groaned, his skull vibrating with the sound of crushed metal and the stench of oily smoke. 

“Taiga!” Tatsuya yelled, “Shoot it!”

He blinked and the blurry edges of his vision cleared. Tatsuya had trapped, or more like embedded, the unit between the iron-layered side of the car and the tree. 

_SKREEEEEE_

It screeched, partially burning and its clawed hands had already dug into the vehicle ready to push it off.

_“Shoot it!”_

“Move your head!”

He pulled the trigger the second Tatsuya ducked. The robot’s face burst apart and it went limp. Taiga grabbed his older brother by the wrist, dragging him right over the gear shift and out his own door. Together, they tumbled onto the dirt trail, shaking and panting.

Taiga’s heart thundered, adrenaline pumping away in his veins. His skin felt prickly and his limbs like springs. If it weren’t for Tatsuya’s lightning reflexes, he probably would’ve clocked him good when his brother touched his shoulder. 

“Whoa, easy,” Tatsuya said, hands raised, “Calm down. It’s over.” 

Taiga’s eyes widened and he dropped his stance immediately. 

“Fuck,” he said, gripping his knees, “sorry.”

His brother eyed him. “It’s fine. You okay?”

“Huh? Yeah, yeah I think I’m alright. You?”

Tatsuya didn’t answer. His gaze had gravitated to Taiga’s side. 

“You’re bleeding.”

Taiga blinked and looked down. An ugly splotch of blood had soaked through his shirt and was quickly seeping across his chest. One of the glass shards must have found its way in. Huh. 

“We need to move,” his brother said, taking off his jacket, “There could be more of them.”

Taiga hissed when he pressed the cloth against the wound, tying it into a makeshift bandage. 

“Where are we going?”

“I don’t know,” Tatsuya said simply, “But we’re not staying here. You need help.”

He almost asked where he thought they were going to get said help, but refrained. Saying that kind of shit wasn’t useful at all.

“Okay.”

Tatsuya nodded and straightened. He surveyed the wreckage for a moment, before spotting the shotgun lying in the grass a few feet away. Taiga watched him walk over to it, trying to ignore the faint waves of pain beginning to sweep over him. The mountain had gone silent again. No sounds but the chirps of crickets and the smoking of the busted engine. 

Perhaps that was why Taiga had noticed it.

The gleaming face and huge, glowing eyes, peeking through the thicket. 

Tatsuya hadn’t.

_SKREEEEEEE_

The sentinel burst from the leaves, catching Tatsuya by the shoulder and lifting him clean off his feet. Another V59. Taiga might have screamed his brother’s name. Or he might have just screamed in general.

Tatsuya’s face was white, as he stared up into an empty, metallic face.

“Run, Taiga,” he whispered.

And then his brother was gone, vanishing into the forest, still clutched in the sentinel’s hand. Taiga saw red. With a wordless roar, he charged after it, grabbing the shotgun along the way.

“Tatsuya!”

No, no, no, not here on this fucking mountain, in the middle of the night. Not by a fucking piece of junk metal. It wouldn’t happen he wouldn’t let it, Tatsuya was the only family he had left…

“TATSUYA!”

He crashed through the woods, sharp branches snagging his clothes and cutting into his skin. Taiga felt none of it. He could very well have run blindly through the entire woods and straight off a cliff, if not for the large root that caught his foot. Unable to halt his momentum, he went flying head over heels, rolling through the shrubs and down a low hill. He didn’t manage to stop until he landed in a patch of soft grass, face-down.

“Ugh,” Taiga moaned, his body burning and breathless, “Ow.”

Gingerly, he lifted himself onto his elbows, cradling his head as he raised it.

A ghost’s face stared straight into his.

“HOLY FU--!”

Taiga screamed bloody murder and reeled backwards onto his rump. His fingers fumbled for the gun for a moment before discovering it wasn’t there, having been dropped again during his fall. He was in the middle of trying to pry his shoe off as a weapon, when a voice suddenly spoke. 

“Oh, it seems I have startled you.”

Taiga’s head shot up once more. The “ghost” had taken several steps back. On second glance, it had a dark blue bag slung over its shoulder. And was not in fact a ghost at all, but a boy. A small one, with a slight frame, ice-blue hair and skin paler than snow. His eyes were round and bright baby blue, like the color of open skies.

Taiga stared for a long moment.

“What the fuck?” he decided on.

The boy frowned. “I apologize for frightening you, but there is no need for such language.”

Taiga blinked. “I-I wasn’t frightened,” he said hotly, “Anyone would freak out if a person materialized an inch from their face!”

One blank look was sent at him. 

“I have been here the whole time,” the boy said, “If anyone has suddenly materialized, it would be you. With this place so deep in the mountain, you were quite a surprise.”

A pale hand gestured at the backdrop around them and that was when Taiga realized he was in a glade. It was about an acre large, with cool moonlight spilling over grass and wildflowers, creating shadows that flickered with the rhythm of the breeze. Somewhere further back, the trickling of a creek could be heard as well.

It was like some kind of freaking oasis. 

“Geez, where even am I?” he murmured, awe-filled.

“Kiseki Mountain,” came the prompt reply, “The border mark for the Teikou Empire, holding the world record for biggest bogs ever formed and most popular location for suicides.”

Taiga twitched.

“ _Not that._ I just meant it’s weird seeing a place like this.”

“Ah, yes,” the boy nodded, “It would be startling to see a glade up here. The mountain is too dangerous for anyone to get this far.”

Taiga stared incredulously. 

_Then what are you doing here?_

“…Who are you?”

“Oh, please excuse me,” he bowed, “My name is Kuroko Tetsuya. Due to the _carelessness and idiocy_ of another, I am up here looking for a few herbs.”

Kuroko’s expressionless face didn’t change, but his hand did tighten on the bag in his grip. Taiga tactfully ignored the way it seemed to mime a strangling. 

“Right…Kagami Taiga.”

There was a beat.

“As in Seirin’s Kagami Taiga? The Mad Tiger?“

Taiga cringed. “Yeah, but don’t call me that.”

“Of course, Kagami-san. It is an honor to meet you, I didn’t—“

He suddenly broke off. Faint surprise flickered in his eyes.

“You are injured.”

Taiga blinked, looked down, saw the blood and suddenly remembered the twenty minutes prior all over again.

“Shit!” he flew to his feet, a torrent of panicked questions already flooding his head. Where had he landed? Would he be able to find the trail again? How much time had passed? What if Tatsuya was already—

“SHIT!” 

Taiga turned heel, trying to sprint back up the hill. Almost instantly, his knees buckled and he would’ve fallen if a small hand hadn’t grabbed his bicep.

“Careful!” Kuroko said, hauling him up with surprising strength, “You are bleeding very badly, Kagami-san.”

“I don’t care!” Taiga shoved him away, attempting to stand. His legs were beginning to feel like rubber.

“It’s gonna kill him, I need to—need to get back—“

_SKREEEEEE_

Taiga froze.

Just a few feet away, the bushes along the glade were rustling. Long, slender tree branches bent and twisted back. A sentinel stood in the shade. Moonlight skittered over the code across its arm, barely visible. Taiga saw it anyway.

Oh, hell.

B65.

Behind him, Kuroko made a confused sound. “What is that doing here?”

Adrenaline sent Taiga rocketing to his feet. He ran, even though his side was on fire and he knew there was very little point to it. 

“Move already!” he yelled, snatching Kuroko by the wrist as he passed and nearly fell on his face from how little weight was on the other end. It was like he’d grabbed a feather. 

“Ah, are you alright, Kagami-san?”

“No, I’m fucking not! Hurry up and run!”

The unit watched them, its glowing eyes unblinking. Slowly, it crouched down, wiry fingers flattening the damp grass. Taiga’s blood was ice in his veins. He recognized that stance too well. The creature’s legs bent.

Running was futile now. It would catch them within a blink. There was only one thing that could be done…

The sentinel shot forward. 

“Get behind me!” Taiga screamed and yanked Kuroko back.

Black pain ripped through his shoulder a second later. Taiga gasped. Every speck of air vanishing from his lungs and his vision flickered. A long, glinting hand was buried in his shoulder blade.  
The sentinel looked at him. Its black lidless eyes staring holes into him. It did not breathe. Vaguely, he wondered what it saw. 

Taiga coughed, bearing his blood-stained teeth. 

"You're all…gonna fucking burn…one day…” 

Somewhere, a pair of blue eyes flashed across his vision before all was still.


	2. The two giants and their shop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Taiga realizes he's not dead, meets two giants, gets weirded out and hears voices through the walls.

Taiga woke up in degrees. The first time he did, it was to a blinding light and shadows hovering around him. Voices, warped and muffled, seeped into the silent space.

_How many more of these am I going to see today? If Akashi gets angry, don’t expect my support, Kuroko._

_Do not worry, Midorima-kun, I will speak to him. Please do what you can for Kagami-san. Is it very serious?_

_Hn, the wound is a clean one, but it needs cauterizing. Murasakibara! Do we still have the fire poker?_

_You traded it for Kerosuke remember, Mido-chin?_

_Damn, is there anything else?_

_Hmm, a nail filer, I think._

_That’ll work, bring it here!_

Taiga went back to sleep.

The second time he woke up was much more coherent. Though his mind was still hazy and he couldn’t quite recollect what had happened, he could register sounds correctly and the floating light above his head had reassembled into a glass lantern. Taiga blinked, his mouth feeling cotton-dry as a dull ache pulsed in his shoulder and side. He was on something soft and clean-smelling, a bed probably, but how did he…? 

A face appeared over him.

“Kagami-san.”

And like that, Taiga was awake.

“GYAAAHHHHH!”

Kuroko barely dodged a brutal head-butt to the nose as Taiga shot straight up. He yelped a second later, however, when spikes of pain erupted in his shoulder.

“Please stay still,” Kuroko said, somewhat uselessly, as Taiga groaned and curled up, clinging to his shoulder.

“Wh-What the—how did—Kuroko?!”

Situated on a chair next to the bed, said young man waved. 

“Yes, hello again. I apologize for ruining your dramatic death, Kagami-san. Your one-liner sounded very cool though.”

Taiga gaped at him. Distantly, his mind processed that he was in a sparse, windowless room. Three bookcases lined with chipped and cracked jars were against one wall, while a wooden podium was pressed against the opposite one. 

Sitting on it was a huge ceramic frog. 

_What._

_The._

_Fuck._

He was fully prepared to flip his shit when a deep voice suddenly came from the side.

“He better not have ripped the stitches already.” 

A very tall man stood at the door-less entrance He had glasses, a frown that looked stuck to his face, and hair as green as the freaking trees outside.

“No, everything is fine,” Kuroko replied, perfectly blank, “Kagami-san is just easily startled.” 

Before Taiga could choke out a protest, the man rolled his eyes, walking over to the bed.

“More like you were trying to scare him.” 

Without any preamble or even making eye contact, he reached over and flipped up Taiga’s shirt.

Taiga nearly shrieked. “HEY, WHA—!“

“No signs of infection so far,” the green-haired guy said, letting go within half a second, as if he’d just touched a dead fish.

“The bandages need to be changed though. You can either handle the binding yourself or get Murasakibara to do it.”

He looked at Taiga expectantly, as if he was suppose to have any idea who Murasakibara was. Or what in the blue fuck was happening at all for that matter. 

Kuroko stirred next to him. “Please ask for Murasakibara-kun to come. I’m afraid Kagami-san has no preservation skills to speak of.”

“That much is obvious enough,” green-haired guy said, gave Taiga one last look like he had personally insulted him in some way, before turning around and walking out.

At this point, Taiga was quite ready to lay back down and pretend this was all one completely messed up dream. Kuroko had other plans.

“Please excuse Midorima-kun, his bedside manner needs some work,” he said, “Oh, that would be the person who just lifted up your shirt. In any case, I am glad you are finally awake, Kagami-san. You have been asleep for quite some time. I was getting worried.” 

Without waiting for a reply, he turned to a small dresser next to the bed.

“I hope you will not think this too presumptuous, but I cleaned this up a bit for you,” he said, pulling out a dark, red and white looking cloth, “It will probably need a few more washings, since we only have well water here, but the bloodstains are gone at least.” 

With care, he placed it on Taiga’s lap, who stared at the bundle. 

It was Tatsuya’s jacket.

Taiga stared and stared. A terrible emptiness yawned open inside him.

It was too late now. He already knew that. Even if a voice in his head was still screaming for him to get up, to find the trail, to…to do something.

But what could he do? Tatsuya was gone. He was gone.

CRASH

Taiga’s head whipped up and Kuroko’s eyes slid to the doorway. There was the muffled thump of footsteps out in the hall, as if someone had stumbled. Then a figure was at the threshold. 

“Taiga!”

Before he could even look properly, there were arms around him. Taiga gasped, the wind knocked out of him, as his injured shoulder hit the metal bed frame. The pain, however, didn’t register at all. Raven hair tickled the edge of his cheek.

“Tatsuya?”

The arms tightened. “Yeah,” a voice whispered, “It’s me.” 

“I thought you were dead,” he rasped.

Tatsuya chuckled, a strangely choked sound. “Same here.” 

He didn’t elaborate, but at that point Taiga didn’t care. A hand found its way to Tatsuya’s sleeve, where it clenched tight, and he could feel his brother’s heartbeat thrumming against his chest. For a moment, it was almost as if they were twelve again, with no one in the world but each other.

He had no idea how long they sat there, before Tatsuya finally pulled away.

“God, I sit with you for a whole day and of course you wake up the second I step out.”

His brother sighed, a weary smile on his lips. He looked tired, worry lines clear on his usually smooth skin, but seemed otherwise unhurt. Taiga blinked in surprise. While he knew Tatsuya was more than capable of taking care of himself, there should’ve been at least some visible sign of how he’d escaped. 

“What happened to you?” he asked, “You didn’t have any weapons. And that was a V Unit.”

Before Tatsuya could reply however, another voice spoke, “What an interesting name.”

Both men jolted, with Taiga banging his shoulder again on the wall.

“OW! Goddamnit!”

“K-Kuroko-kun,” Tatsuya stuttered, hand flying to chest, “I didn’t realize you were here.”

“Good evening, Himuro-san,” Kuroko said, without a trace of blandness, “Forgive me for not calling you right away. I had to ask Midorima-kun to come check on his injuries.”

“Oh, no, it’s alright. He actually told me as I was walking back. Midorima-san really is very considerate, isn’t he? Though he has trouble showing it.”

“Yes, I am afraid his tsundereness is quite out of control.”

They shared a polite laugh, as if they were nothing but the oldest of friends and Taiga didn’t bother to hide his staring. While the relief at seeing his brother alive had put a momentary halt on things, he was swiftly returning to stunned disbelief.

“Hey, not to interrupt,” he said, giving them a sardonic look, “But would someone mind telling me what the hell happened?”

“Ah, yes,” Kuroko turned back to him, “This is Midorima-kun and Murasakibara-kun’s shop. I brought you here after we were attacked.”

 _And how does that explain anything at all?_ Taiga thought, incredulously taking in Kuroko’s narrow shoulders and thin face. Up close, he seemed even smaller, the top of his head probably only reaching his collarbone when standing. It was hard to imagine a petite guy like this could fight off one of the Emperor’s sentinels on his own. 

Tatsuya squeezed his shoulder. 

“Taiga, it’s okay now. We’re safe. Atsushi told me the sentinels don’t come this far down the mountain.”

“What? Who’s Atsu—?”

“Mou, Muro-chin, you need to watch where you’re going. It took me two days to make that salve.”

In what was quickly becoming a routine occurrence, another silhouette was at the doorway. A huge one this time. Taiga didn’t manage to catch more than a flash of violet and one enormous hand, before a _freaking giant_ was strolling into the room.

“Ara, Kuro-chin you’re here too?” The giant blinked languidly at the assembly. He had drooping violet eyes and a lazy drawl to his voice, while long purple locks hung in a mess over his face. Piles of white gauze and tape were cradled in his arms.

Kuroko nodded. “I have been here the whole time.”

Simultaneously, Tatsuya chuckled, scratching his head. “Ah-haha, I’m sorry, Atsushi, I got so excited when I learned Taiga woke up, I guess I didn’t watch where I was going. Did I cause any inconvenience?”

There was a bored shrug. “Not really. Just Mine-chin’s gonna have to go hiking again for more ingredients.”

“It isn’t as if he went last time anyway,” Kuroko said, somehow sounding even flatter than normal.

The giant just grunted, the “as-long-as-I-don’t-have-to-do-it” nearly audible.

In no particular rush, he lumbered over to them and Taiga’s jaw nearly hit the ground, because _holy god_ , exactly how tall was this guy? He was practically a skyscraper up close.

“Hai~ Branchbrows,” said the skyscraper, dumping the supplies directly onto the bed, “Hurry up and take off your shirt.”

“…”

Taiga grabbed Tatsuya’s arm.

“So filling me in right about now would be great, thanks.”

\---

As it turned out the purple skyscraper was Murasakibara Atsushi, one of the names Taiga had heard Kuroko and that Midorima guy toss around earlier. He was a chemist and medicine maker though the tank-like build and slightly stoned look gave zero indication of that, and also helped out Midorima with patients occasionally. 

Together their shop was akin to a pseudo-clinic/pharmacy, which given the disease-ridden times, must have been pretty damn invaluable. It was probably what overrode Midorima and Murasakibara’s assorted weirdness as well, which they seemed to be chock full of.

“That’s Kerosuke,” Murasakibara said suddenly and Taiga jumped, quickly averting his gaze from the large glass frog. Its size aside, the thing had the most unnerving, beady black eyes Taiga had ever seen and he swore it had been watching them since the beginning.

“I-I wasn’t…uh…is…is that a decoration or something?”

“Kerosuke’s never a decoration,” Murasakibara said, distractedly unraveling some gauze, “Mido-chin keeps him here as a permanent lucky item.”

As if that had made any sense at all, Kuroko looked up. “Oh, has Midorima-kun checked Oha Asa yet?”

“Uh-huh, Cancer is ranked eighth and Libra’s at tenth.”

Kuroko sighed, “This is why you need things like Kerosuke. Both of you are always at the bottom.”

Murasakibara pouted. Actually pouted. There were many things Taiga thought he’d be forced to witness in his life. A seven feet tall man pouting like a child had not been one of them.

“It’s not my fault,” he said, “Mine-chin and Kise-chin are even lower than me.” 

Taiga glanced at Tatsuya, wondering if he was the only one baffled beyond words at the moment. To his relief, his brother looked just as confused.

“Oha Asa…is that the horoscope program they play on the radio?” Tatsuya inquired politely.

Kuroko and Murasakibara glanced at him, faint surprise flickering in their eyes.

“You know it?” Murasakibara was staring, “That’s pretty amazing, Muro-chin. We thought Mido-chin was their only listener.”

Taiga twitched at the nickname—as he’d been obnoxiously dubbed “Branchbrows” without another thought, the weird “chin” add-on seemed to signal familiarity for Murasakibara. Kind of weird seeing as they’d only just met a day ago.  
Tatsuya didn’t appear to mind though, laughing about how he had accidentally tuned in on Oha Asa once during a stakeout. Already, his brother seemed to be establishing some kind of odd rapport with the big guy, if the first name basis was any indication.  
Had he started trusting them?

“Actually, you’re probably the one who’s amazing, Atsushi,” his brother smiled, all dazzling teeth, “Having a shop at the base of Kiseki Mountain, I can’t imagine the difficulties. Tell me, how do you really do it?”  
Taiga almost smacked his forehead in realization. Of course Tatsuya was still suspicious. He wouldn’t be Tatsuya otherwise.

Murasakibara simply blinked.

“Eh? What difficulties? We set up here because lots of herbs grow beyond the hill.”

“But what about the sentinels? They’re all over this mountain.”

“I told you already, they don’t come down this far.”

“Yes, but you can’t be certain that—“ 

“They don’t.”

All heads turned to Kuroko, who was watching Tatsuya carefully. 

“The soil here is rich in iron which they are weak to, as I’m sure you already know,” his voice was soft, but there was a hint of accusation within it, “You can rest assured, Himuro-san, they will not descend this far down. There is no need to interrogate us.” 

The smile dropped from Tatsuya’s face like a hot coal. Suddenly, a frigid, strained silence had formed in the room as Tatsuya and Kuroko stared at each other and it occurred to Taiga that his brother might have wanted to ask these questions for some time now, but refrained until he’d regained consciousness.

He stayed quiet. The circumstances may have been strange he supposed, but Kuroko had saved his life when he hadn’t owed him anything, when he could’ve very easily left him to die. Anyone with the Teikou wouldn’t have done something like that. It wasn’t the way things worked. 

Or at least that’s what his gut told him, but what did Taiga really know? He’d always been bad at the interrogation stuff—too quick to believe was what Captain Hyuuga had said, too quick to look for good in people.

Murasakibara snipped a bandage in half. “Muro-chin still doesn’t trust us?”

His voice was very flat, almost bored, but it punctured the thick silence like a needle. Kuroko turned away as Tatsuya glanced at Murasakibara with something surprisingly akin to guilt.

“No, that’s not it,” he said genuinely, “I’m very grateful for everything you’ve done for Taiga and I. We would not have made it in the forest without your help. It’s just…”

_…how is any of this possible?_

Tatsuya’s brow furrowed and he looked like he was searching for any other words aside from those, but couldn’t find them. Murasakibara ripped open a packet of antiseptic wipes, deliberately not looking at him. Taiga coughed.

“Kuroko, how the hell did you get away from that thing?” he said, changing the subject, “From what I remember, it didn’t look eager to just let us go.”

Kuroko, who had been studying his brother closely, looked up. 

“Ah, yes, that,” he said, “The formless one, or what you probably call a B65 correct?”

Taiga began to nod, before suddenly yelping as Murasakibara pressed the alcohol swab too hard into his wound.

“A what?” Murasakibara said, unfazed by how Taiga cursed him out.

“That’s how we classify the sentinels,” Tatsuya said, eager to cover up the previous awkwardness, “It’s based on the serial codes we’ve seen on their necks. Each letter is always assigned to one of the five types, though who knows what they could stand for.”

It was nearly imperceptible—a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it kind of moment, but Taiga saw Murasakibara and Kuroko exchange glances. 

“Well, that’s certainly not something we’ve heard people call them before,” Kuroko said, with a weird spark in his eye, almost resembling mirth. “It seems rather fitting though. Perhaps we should start using it too.”

Murasakibara just grunted again. His large, shockingly deft hands were now binding Taiga’s shoulder, having tossed the soiled bandages onto the dresser. 

“B units are known for their speed,” Tatsuya added, looking somewhat bewildered now, “To be able to get away from it and drag Taiga all the way here, you are something else, Kuroko-kun.”

“Not at all,” Kuroko said and gave Taiga a very solemn look that made his heart bounce. What was with this guy’s eyes? They were too fucking blue. 

“Really. I wasn’t the one who moved him. Kagami-san weighs a literal ton.” 

Taiga’s eyelid twitched. “Oi.”

“What?” Tatsuya turned to Murasakibara, “Then Atsushi was it…?”

“Ah, no,” Kuroko shook his head, “It wasn’t Murasakibara-kun either. He had to help Midorima-kun with a few patients.”

Taiga tilted his head, waiting for Kuroko to tell him who it actually was then.

CRASH

Both Taiga and Tatsuya jumped a near feet, the latter almost falling off his chair. Murasakibara’s gaze rolled to the ceiling. 

“Ara, I thought Mido-chin kicked them out.”

Kuroko didn’t even blink, “Perfect timing. We can get all the uncomfortable introductions out of the way right now.”

They stared at him.

Distantly, from somewhere else in the house there was the sound of thudding footsteps and voices shouting all at once. 

_“Holy shit, Kise, what the fuck’s your problem?! You nearly tore off my arm!”_

_“Oh stop being dramatic, Aominecchi! It’s not my fault you were taking forever. How much did you think an old porn magazine was worth anyway?”_

_“How much—That was an exclusive edition of Mai-chan’s April photoshoot! I could’ve gotten three bags of rice out of that snake-eyed bastard if you hadn’t dragged me away!”_

_“I highly doubt Imayoshi-san would’ve given you even a grain of rice for that thing. And anyways, who cares? We have more important things to focus on!”_

_“What do you mean who ca—!“_

_“YOU TWO, WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?”_ Midorima’s vaguely psychotic voice erupted, _“I TOLD YOU NOT TO COME BACK UNTIL TOMORROW!”_

_“Maa, maa, calm down, Midorimacchi,”_ the second voice rushed to soothe, _“We went out and got our lucky items see? Here’s the polka-dot lunchbox and Aominecchi’s tiger keychain.”_

There was a beat of silence, before Midorima spoke again, suddenly subdued.

_“Hn, alright. But you still can’t sleep here tonight.”_

_“What?!”_ the first voice snapped, _“Bullshit! I spent an hour convincing Takao to give me this thing!”_

 _“You procured this from Takao?”_ There was a pause. _“Well in that case, you can sleep in the rain for all I care. Besides, the beds are taken.”_

At this, the second voice suddenly began squealing like a high school girl. 

_“Oh my god, oh my god, are they taken by who I think, Midorimacchi?! Oh god, what are they like? Do you think it’d be weird if I still asked for an autograph in this situation? I mean they can always give me a lock of hair or something instead if their hands are too injured. Or would that be weird too? Oh god, I should have brought Kasamatsucchi with me!”_

_“Christ, Kise, calm down. You’re such a disgrace.”_

_“You wouldn’t understand, Aominecchi! I’m the one who wanted to meet them the most and once again all of you guys have managed to do it before me! How is that fair?”_

_“Che, whatever! It’s not like I had a fucking choice,”_ the voice, this “Aominecchi” suddenly became stiff, almost cold and Taiga’s eyes widened in confusion. He turned to Kuroko, who didn’t meet his eyes.  
Midorima made a disgusted noise. _“Are you both incapable of keeping it down? Go to the kitchen before you break something else in here!”_

There was more muttering and wailing protests, before it sounded like Midorima had forcefully pushed the other two out, since a door slammed a second later.

Silence reigned in the room.

“Alright,” Kuroko stood up abruptly, “To the kitchen everyone. Murasakibara-kun, could I trouble you to make some dinner?”

“It’s already done. Just let the pastry buns bake for another ten minutes,” the giant said, taping down the last loose edge of Taiga’s bandages. He glanced at Kuroko from the side, one half-lidded purple eye on him. “You shouldn’t make a mess, Kuro-chin. It’s annoying.”

“Better now than later,” Kuroko said simply and Taiga and Tatsuya looked at each other, because cryptic shit like that never meant anything good.


	3. Enter fanboy and hothead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Kise fanboys, names for the sentinels are debated and Kuroko makes a mess.

Despite a slight wobble at first, Taiga was relieved to find he could stand on his own two feet without help. Not that that stopped Tatsuya from hovering like a fretful mother.

“For the last time, I’m fine,” he said, shoving his brother’s jacket at him, “Here, put on your jacket and stop walking backwards. I don’t need you to monitor me, Tatsuya. I’m not a little kid anymore.”

“I know that,” Tatsuya said defensively, “It’s just you only woke up an hour ago and Midorima-san said you should stay in bed for another month.”

Taiga’s eyes bulged. 

“A month?!”

“Ah, Mido-chin tends to be overcautious,” Murasakibara said, “Nothing vital was hit, so you’ll probably be okay in a week or two.” 

As he spoke, he swept past them and Taiga couldn’t help noticing again the rippling muscle that moved beneath his long sleeves, even more noticeable when he had to hunch over for the doorway. Whatever Murasakibara had been in the past, it sure as shit  
hadn’t been a medicine-maker. 

“Fine, but I want you to take it easy,” Tatsuya was saying, shrugging into his jacket, “Don’t push yourself.”

Taiga almost rolled his eyes.

“Hai, hai, Tatsu-nii.”

His brother gave him a skeptical look, before turning and following Murasakibara out. Kuroko slid his chair back against the wall.

“Shall we go then, Kagami-san?”

Taiga nodded. “Yeah,” he hesitated, “And…drop the “san,” huh? It sounds weird.”

Kuroko looked at him, surprised, and Taiga quickly explained.

“I mean, I just figured…since you saved my life and everything, that we don’t have to be so formal. B-But it’s not a big deal, sorry if that was too forward.”

“No, of course not, Kagami-kun.” A small smile formed on Kuroko’s lips and Taiga’s heart skipped a beat. What the hell was going on with him?

Kuroko broke their gaze.

“News from the empire travels slowly around here, but I have heard a lot about Seirin,” he said, two pale fingers reaching for the light switch, “It’s very admirable, what your team has been doing for people. We are truly grateful. All of us. I hope you will remember that.” 

Taiga’s eyebrow rose at the odd, almost sad words, as if they were suppose to mean something more.

But Kuroko was already walking out, and in his effort to catch up, the thought faded from Taiga’s mind. 

\---

His initial perceptions of the room aside, the shop itself was actually quite big, with multiple doorways lining the winding hall and even a staircase indicating a second floor. Random carts and boxes of herbs littered their path and there was another shelf of weird-ass porcelain ducks against one wall. 

Adorned on the opposite end was a wide, glass-less window. The shutters had been pushed open, letting in a fresh breeze that swept away the scent of medicine and antiseptic. The moon beamed in from outside, full and bright, while Kiseki Mountain loomed like a great shadow in the backdrop. 

Taiga shuddered. How anyone could stand to live up here was beyond him, freaking magic soil barrier or not.

They followed Murasakibara and Kuroko down several different halls, before arriving at a set of wooden doors. Muffled voices could already be heard inside and Taiga inexplicably began to feel anxious. Why did Kuroko say this was going to be uncomfortable? 

Murasakibara grabbed the handle, sliding the door open.

A man was slouched at the kitchen table, a half-eaten chocolate bun in hand. He had tan skin, midnight blue hair and was dressed in a sleeveless black shirt that accentuated every rope of muscle in his arms. A large, white bandage was wrapped over his arm, near his elbow. Taiga tried not to stare, though it was kind of hard when the guy was looking directly at them.

“Oi, Tetsu, where have you been?” he said.

“Over the hill,” Kuroko stepped in, “Doing your job, Aomine-kun.”

Comprehension dawned on Taiga at the name. This must’ve been the “Aominecchi” he’d heard through the walls earlier.

Aomine cringed, “Fuck, Tetsu, I said I was sorry. I’ll go tomorrow night.” 

“You mean two weeks from now.” Midorima was standing behind him, pouring a cup of tea at the counter with his ever-present scowl on. 

“Don’t take these kinds of injuries lightly,” he snapped, “I don’t need the trouble.”

The reprimand was apparently not a new one as Aomine just rolled his eyes and took another bite out of his roll.

“Yeah, yeah, calm your tits, Midorima.”

Midorima made a choked, half-enraged sound, but was overshadowed by Murasakibara, who slid the door shut, looking annoyed. 

“Mine-chin, those weren’t ready yet.”

Aomine waved him off, mouth full, “They’re fine. A little raw dough never killed anyone.” 

Taiga’s pretty sure it has, but Kuroko was already changing the subject.

“Where is Kise-kun?” he asked, looking around the kitchen, “I never thought he would leave at a time like this.”

Both Aomine and Midorima scoffed. 

“He’s coming,” the former said, “Wouldn’t miss this shit.”

Taiga blinked again at the vaguely mocking tone. Aomine’s dark blue eyes slid over him like he was the tiniest of bugs, as he continued sitting there, refusing to acknowledge their presence. Irritation began to surface in Taiga. What the hell? Had he done something to this guy?

At the same time, Tatsuya shifted next to him, looking similarly peeved. His brother had an even lower tolerance than him for disrespect, no matter how veiled.

Before things could quickly degenerate however, a sudden, loud gasp came from across them.

Another man stood at the opposite door, holding a gigantic bowl steeped with rice. He was tall and blonde, with long-lashed amber eyes that Taiga swore had freaking sparkles in them. A high-pitched rumbling noise was coming from his throat, like the kind beehives made when they were about to explode.

“See?” Aomine stuck a pinky in his ear, “Told you.”

Without a word, Murasakibara suddenly took three giant strides toward the blonde. He stuck out his hand, catching the bowl just in time before it shattered all over the floor.

“OH MY GOD!” the blonde shrieked and Taiga and Tatsuya jumped as he teleported in front of them, “OH MY GODOHMYGOD, IT REALLY IS YOU! I DIDN’T EVEN—I THOUGHT--!”

He grabbed Taiga’s hand suddenly, making him flinch. 

“Hi, I’m Kise Ryouta,” he said, leaning in with huge eyes, and Taiga noticed rather randomly that he had a little pink lunchbox hanging off his wrist.  
“I am the _biggest_ fan of Seirin. Thank you so much for all your hard work. Your exploits and accomplishments are an inspiration to all. I know that one day when the Empire falls, Seirin will be at the forefront leading the ranks.”

“How about a little more glitter over here?” said Aomine, “I don’t think I’m buried yet.” 

Not even sparing a glance, Kise pointed a thumb at him.

“That’s Aomine Daiki by the way,” he said, still cheerful, “You can just ignore him. In fact, it would probably be best if you didn’t associate him with any of us.”

Aomine snorted. “Well, fuck you too.”

Taiga glanced around helplessly. Tatsuya was too surprised to be of much use, while Kuroko was tranquilly observing them. 

Midorima looked like he was judging every single person in the room and Murasakibara set the rice bowl on the table like it was his new-born child. 

For the nth time already, Taiga pondered what the hell was going on.

“A-Ah, thanks,” he ended up saying, “That means a lot.”

Kise practically beamed. 

“Holy shit,” he squeaked, “He’s speaking to me…!”

“Good god, Kise,” Midorima muttered.

“Kise-chin’s embarrassing himself again,” Murasakibara agreed, padding out of the room, “Maybe he needs to be kicked out for his own good.” 

To Taiga’s relief, his hand was dropped so Kise could turn and pout. 

“So mean Murasakibaracchi!” 

Instead of replying, Murasakibara returned with two large plates, brimmed to the top with steaming meats and vegetables. That got everyone’s attention real quick. Tatsuya’s mouth opened slightly, having never seen so much food in one sitting, while Taiga’s stomach suddenly and rather embarrassingly made him aware of how long it’s been since he’s last eaten.

The sound thankfully was drowned out by Aomine’s even louder stomach. 

“Finally. I was starving my ass off.”

“As if that were possible,” Midorima snapped.

“Muro-chin and Kuro-chin come eat too,” Murasakibara said, “And Branchbrows. I made a lot.”

“This is very kind of you, Atsushi,” Tatsuya said at the same time a horrified Kise cried out, “Murasakibaracchi, you can’t call a _hero_ that!” 

At that point, Taiga wouldn’t have cared if he’d been called Pretty Pink Princess. There was so. Much. Food. And it looked fresh for once and smelled like Heaven. How was this even possible? With the barren fields and the Teikou’s strict rationing system, even bread was a luxury under the Empire, never mind meat and vegetables. 

Taiga wondered if he should pinch himself.

“Please help yourselves, Kagami-kun, Himuro-san,” Kuroko said, coming up next to him, “Murasakibara-kun is an amazing cook.”

He shot a weirdly insistent glance at Kise and Aomine.

“Aomine-kun and Kise-kun should sit with us too.”

Kise didn’t have to be told twice and rushed to snatch a spot next to Tatsuya. Aomine turned around in his seat at a more reluctant pace, as if acquiescing just for the food. 

“You guys eating?” he asked, looking at the two taller men at the counter.

Midorima shook his head curtly, almost hurriedly, “No. We ate earlier and there’s still work to do.”

“What?” Tatsuya said, surprised, “Come on, Atsushi, it wouldn’t be right for us to eat all this without you.”

Indeed, Murasakibara looked crestfallen as he gazed at the dishes and it was with great painful difficulty that he finally shook his head.

“No,” he said, “Not when Kuro-chin is about to make a mess.”

Whatever that meant they never knew, as Midorima actually moved to grab his wrist.

“Come _on_ , Murasakibara,” he said, and dragged the giant out.

\---

Thanks to a combination of the incredible food and Tatsuya and Kise’s congenial personalities, the meal had gone pretty smoothly and Taiga found he rather liked the blonde. He was chatty as hell and looked a little on the flakier side, but he was a decent guy and Taiga could see the sincere admiration in his eyes when he spoke to them. 

He was also, as they learned, another person that seemed to have his own bunk at Midorima and Murasakibara’s shop, though unlike Kuroko and Aomine, he usually stayed in town at the tailor store he worked at. 

For that matter, Kuroko ghosted around town a lot too, doing odd jobs and tasks Midorima needed him to do, as well as occasionally manning the shop. 

It left Taiga wondering what exactly Aomine did beyond going up the hill to get Murasakibara ingredients. He sure didn’t seem like he would’ve been any help with customers, given that ugly-ass face.

Well, that was a lie. Aomine was far from ugly, but Taiga still thought it on principle. 

The jerk had been subtly glaring at him for the past forty minutes now and Taiga had no clue why. He barely said a word to anyone during the meal and just continuously stuffed his face, replying in grunts and the occasional one-word answer whenever prompted by Kuroko.

Taiga’s mood soured further just at the thought. The way he looked at Kuroko also pissed him off. All hungry and pining like some crazed dog would view a steak. 

…Okay, that wasn’t fair either. There was nothing shallow about the way Aomine looked at Kuroko. In fact, one could almost say there was something akin to sadness in his eyes, whenever it flickered by, and a part of Taiga wondered if there had been something between them in the past. 

Still, it didn’t mean he had to keep looking at him like that though (not that Taiga cared for any reason beyond propriety).

“…and I’ve heard a lot about you specifically, Himurocchi!” Kise was saying, having already dubbed them with nicknames (what was with the nicknaming obsession around here?), “You were on the front page once for fighting off a whole horde of sentinels by yourself. I think some of the girls in town still have Mirage Shooter action figures.”

Tatsuya chuckled, sounding somewhat embarrassed, “Oh, that wasn’t really as big of a deal as people made it out to be. There were only about five of them and they were all V units, which I have a lot of experience dealing with.” 

For a second, Kise looked puzzled and Aomine broke his silent glowering at Taiga to actually pay attention to the conversation.

“V unit?”

“V59, the serial code,” Kuroko explained, looking at them, “Thor’s Hammer.”

Taiga’s eyebrow rose at those strange words, but Kise and Aomine seemed to understand immediately. If possible, Kise seemed to get even more adoring while Aomine actually appeared taken aback. He was staring at Tatsuya with a dumbfounded look.

“Thor’s Hammer?” Tatsuya asked, “Is that how people here classify them?”

Kuroko nodded. “I suppose you could say that. Thor’s Hammer is one of the names of the attacks the five different types use. There are also High Projectiles, Formless Ones, Perfect Copies and Emperor Eyes.”

“Sounds like a mouthful to me,” Taiga said, before he could stop himself. Tatsuya glared at him, but Kuroko just nodded.

“Yes, it is.”

“The designer was a little sentimental,” Kise sighed, “He ended up making the sentinels sound like superheroes.”

His eyes slid to the table and for an instant looked almost saddened. As if he knew what the designer had been feeling. Personally, Taiga didn’t think the designer, or any of those bastards involved with making the sentinels, had been feeling anything. No one who gave the slightest of a damn would have ever created those monsters to begin with.

Aomine placed his chopsticks down with a loud ‘clink,’ “Shut up, Kise. You wouldn’t know anyway.”

He was back to glaring death at Taiga. Instead of getting offended though, Kise merely blinked.

“Right, haha,” the blonde scratched his head, “What am I saying?”

Kuroko was silent and Tatsuya gave him a kind smile.

“It’s remarkable how much knowledge you have on them though,” he said, “I wouldn’t have thought so, considering the circumstances.”

It was meant to be an innocuous comment, Taiga could tell. For some reason, Murasakibara's disappointment earlier had really seemed to bother his brother, causing him to rein in the suspicions for now. 

Not that that stopped Aomine from perceiving otherwise however.

“The hell’s that suppose to mean?” he said, turning his glower to Tatsuya, “You think just ‘cause you have fancy names and prance around trying to save the world that you know everything about the sentinels?”

An expression of pure dread fell over Kise’s face almost at once, while Kuroko’s eyes slid toward Aomine silently. Tatsuya looked startled.

“I…No, that wasn’t what I was implying. It’s just that I was told they aren’t seen much around here.”

“You bet your pretty ass they’re not,” Aomine snapped, “Or at least they weren’t, until you all showed up.”

Taiga’s eyes widened in anger and he cut in. 

“What the hell are _you_ talking about? It’s not like we meant to get stuck up in the mountain.”

The look that was sent at him was of pure, almost startling resentment and suddenly it was like the floodgates were opening. 

“Everything was fine, you know. Everything was going fucking swell,” Aomine said, voice low, “Then you and your motley little crew come up here making all this fucking noise and leaving your iron-laden shit everywhere. If the sentinels didn’t bother with this place before, they sure as fuck are going to now.”

“You can’t blame us for things like that,” Taiga snapped, “We were attacked and got separated. I’m sorry we inconvenienced you guys and we’ll get out of here as soon as we can, but I don’t want you assuming shit or talking to my brother that way.”

“Taiga—“ 

“Aominecchi, can’t you just—“

“I'm not _assuming_ anything,” Aomine spat back, “I see what I see, and that’s a bunch of self-righteous assholes shoving how great and noble they are in everyone’s face. You talk about the sentinels like you understand, when really you have no fucking clue."

Something inside Taiga snapped.

“What the fuck is your problem?” he yelled, shooting to his feet, “You’ve been glaring at me all night for no reason and now you’re suddenly spouting shit at us!”

“ _You_ are my problem!” Aomine roared, looking just as livid, “Haven’t you figured that out yet? Are you retarded too on top of being an ugly-ass, sanctimonious prick?”

He shoved himself up as well and the violent fumbling of movement sent the plates at the edge sliding off the table. Kise yelped, trying to grab them, but he was too late. With a clatter, they fell onto the floor, shattering with a thunderous crash while leftover food and sauce splattered everything else. 

Silence.

A minute must have passed before heavy footsteps were heard in the distance. Midorima slid the door open.

“Kuroko, can’t you keep it—“

He paused, staring at the mess.

“Huh?”

“Well, this has been awesome!” Kise chirped suddenly, with a grin so forced it looked painful, “But it’s getting pretty late now, so Aominecchi and I will just be on our way! Kurokocchi, please thank Murasakibaracchi for the great meal and that we’ll be replacing the plates. Good night and hope your shoulder gets better soon, Kagamicchi!”

Without waiting for a reply from anyone, Kise grabbed Aomine’s arm and began yanking him towards the door. Taiga thought he was going to protest, but Aomine just let himself be dragged, turning from him wordlessly.

With a bang, the door slammed shut after them.

\---

“I knew Murasakibara kept saying it, but I never thought he’d be so accurate,” Midorima said, watching as Kuroko and Tatsuya mopped up the spilled food from the floor, “Perhaps Libra will be ranked higher tomorrow.”

“Midorima-kun, you are getting in the way,” Kuroko said simply, scrubbing away the sauce around his shoes. 

“I’m so sorry for this,” Tatsuya said, for the fourth time now in clear distress, “I really did not mean to offend anyone.”

“Do not trouble yourself, Himuro-san,” Kuroko offered a small smile, “Aomine-kun is a difficult person at the best of times.”

A derisive noise escaped Midorima. “That’s putting it mildly.”

“Yeah, Tatsuya, forget that asshole,” Taiga said, temper still flaring even as he picked up stray glass shards, “He doesn’t know what the hell he’s talking about.”

Tatsuya shot him a reprimanding look.

“You didn’t have to shout back at him, Taiga.”

“He started it though!” It took him a minute to realize how childish that sounded and he went back to scouring the floor, frowning sulkily.

Tatsuya sighed.

“Anyway, we appreciate all of your help, Kuroko-kun. Midorima-san and Atsushi as well, but it looks like it would be best if we did not stay here much longer.”

Kuroko nodded, “Of course, Himuro-san. You are welcome any time, despite what Aomine-kun says, but we do not want you to feel uncomfortable. I will go speak to Akashi-kun tomorrow morning and see if he can find you a place in town.”

Another foreign name. Taiga looked at him warily.

“Akashi-kun?”

“The headman,” Midorima explained shortly, pushing up his glasses, “He’s in charge of all the residents that live here and would _usually like to be informed_ about new arrivals.”

That last part seemed to be more pointed than normal, but Kuroko ignored him.

“You can stay in town,” he reassured them, “And please do not let Aomine-kun get to you. He is slow to trust strangers. Especially ones that come from the heart of the Empire.”

Taiga failed to see how that gave him the right to act like a rude, presumptuous ass, but Tatsuya gave him another look of warning.

“Thank you, Kuroko-kun,” he said, bowing, “You really have gone to so much trouble for us.”

“The pleasure is mine,” Kuroko replied, “It is a rare treat to meet people who want to make a difference.” 

His cerulean eyes glided over Taiga as he spoke. Taiga quickly looked away, feeling blood rush to his cheeks without knowing why. Behind him, Midorima narrowed his eyes. 

\---

It was midnight by the time Atsushi finished the last batch of burn ointment for selling tomorrow. Standing, he stretched, making a series of cracks and pops go down his back. His stomach too, joined in on the chorus.

Atsushi frowned, his mind wandering to the big bowl of rice in the kitchen. They must be done by now, if the loud crashing and shouting earlier had been any indication (good thing he and Mido-chin escaped when they did). Maybe he could go and eat whatever was left…

The door slid open.

“Here,” Mido-chin said, walking in with a tray of chocolate buns, “Don’t bother going for leftovers. Aomine got into a fight with that other hot-head Kagami Taiga and they knocked over the plates.”

Atsushi stared at him for a beat.

“Mou, what a waste,” he murmured, grabbing four pastries at once, “I never thought Kuro-chin was going to make a literal mess too.”

“He’s up to something,” Mido-chin said, his scowl deeper than usual, “The way he looks at them is questionable. Especially Kagami Taiga.”

Atsushi took a big bite, chewing thoughtfully. 

“Mido-chin, you make it sound like Kuro-chin is a pervert or something.”

Mido-chin sputtered, turning red, almost like a strawberry.

“N-Not like that, you fool! I just meant it’s strange. He was insistent on saving the other ones too, but with Kagami…” He paused. “He wanted to save him for a reason.”

Atsushi swallowed, popping another pastry into his mouth.

“Hmm…”

Truth be told, he had also kind of noticed how fixated Kuro-chin was on Branchbrows (and no doubt Mine-chin had noticed too). Not that he thought it’d been a big deal though or even really cared. Muro-chin had been so much prettier. 

“As long as Kuro-chin doesn’t get annoying about it,” he said, shrugging, “And Aka-chin says we don’t have to do anything, why does it matter?”

Mido-chin sighed, like he had missed the entire point of what he said, but didn’t press further.

“Speaking of Akashi,” he said, “You remember what he told us about leaving things up in the mountain?”

Atsushi froze. 

“That was just once. I couldn’t help it, my arms were full and I didn’t wanna carry a big empty chocolate bag all the way back here. Did Mine-chin tell on me? I’ll crush him.”

“No, not that!” Mido-chin pinched the bridge of his nose, “They left their car up there, Murasakibara. And a gun.”

Atsushi blinked. “Oh.”

He supposed he should find that way more serious, but he was honest-to-god relieved Aka-chin hadn’t found out about the littering. 

“Ugh, so annoying,” he mumbled, shoving another pastry into his mouth, “Can I go get them later?’

“No you cannot! They are starting to circle.”

Atsushi glanced at Midorima, who had tilted his glasses up onto his forehead. The green of his irises glowed faintly in the dark.

He pouted. It looked like he didn’t have a choice then. Stupid Muro-chin and Branchbrows. 

“Are there a lot of them, Mido-chin?

“Not at the moment,” he said, turning his glowing eyes to the right, “But there are more on the way, so you should hurry up and go.”

Atsushi sighed long and hard. He really hoped Mine-chin’s elbow got better soon, because this job sucked. 

“Fiiiine, are they Perfect Copies?” That would just be so incredibly troublesome.

“Formless Ones,” Mido-chin said, before his eyebrows furrowed, “And a few High Projectiles.”

“I think you mean B and G units, Midorima-kun.”

Mido-chin jolted, leaping up so high Atsushi was impressed he didn’t hit the ceiling. He had to grab him by the collar before he could fall on his face.

“Kuro-chin,” Atsushi said, “When’d you get here?”

Kuro-chin bowed, his face blank as ever. In the moonlight, he looked even tinier, Atsushi’s shadow alone engulfing his entire body.

“Good evening, Murasakibara-kun,” he said, “I have been here the whole time.”

He turned to Mido-chin.

“I was not aware that you thought my interactions with Kagami-kun were coming off as strange,” he said, “I assure you it was not my intention to express anything but general concern for his well-being.”

It was kind of amazing how Kuro-chin had the best poker face Atsushi had ever seen and yet still be so obvious when he lied. 

“Stop trying to fool us, Kuroko,” Mido-chin snapped, the glow in his eyes stopping as he slid his glasses back on, “You know I normally don’t agree with Aomine, but this is not a game. Seirin is known throughout the empire. If word gets out that they’re here, the Teikou will—“

“Do not worry, Midorima-kun,” Kuro-chin said, in that flat tone he used whenever he wanted them to stop talking about something, “They will not find us. Or the town. I have made sure of that.”

Mido-chin went quiet, but he didn’t look satisfied at all and though Atsushi _really_ did not care that much, he decided to help him out. 

“You can at least tell us why you want them to stay here so bad, Kuro-chin,” he said, “That lie you gave about iron in the soil was way too good.”

Not that he would’ve minded Muro-chin staying a little longer, but seriously, he wouldn’t be surprised if half the empire was up in the mountain by next month trying to find this place.

Mido-chin gaped. “You said that? Kuroko, if Akashi finds out—“

“I will speak to him, Midorima-kun. About everything,” Kuro-chin said, using his best Aka-chin voice to signal the conversation was over. (Though the first time Atsushi heard that voice it was from Kuro-chin, so he guessed it was Aka-chin who was always using his best Kuro-chin voice?)

All this thinking and secrecy was making him hungry.

“Maa, it doesn’t really matter,” Atsushi said, taking the last pastry, “Just don’t get me in trouble, Kuro-chin.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Murasakibara-kun.’

Mido-chin stammered out something else about how it did matter and they were not going to blow over the topic like this, even though they kind of just did.

“I’m gonna go now~”

“Please be safe,” Kuro-chin said, now in his Okaa-san voice, “And be careful with the car. Knowing Seirin, they have likely lined parts of it with iron.”

Atsushi rolled his eyes.

“Hai~” he said, dragging his feet to the door, “I won’t touch any of it. I’m not an idiot like Mine-chin.”


	4. The town at Kiseki Mountain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Taiga has secrets, Kuroko plays tour guide and there is much talk about the Teikou Empire.

_The night reeked of blood._

_A heady, coppery smell that dug claws into Taiga’s head. Nausea rode up and down his stomach and he tried to move his head. Anything to get away from that smell._

_A cold hand grabbed his arm._

_“Taiga,” a voice said, “Taiga, I want you to listen to me.”_

_The fingernails were long and sharp, painfully digging into his skin. He winced trying to pull away and was wrenched back around._

_“Listen to me!” There was a whine from far away, a high-pitched whirl that was almost like a shriek. The hand trembled around his arm._

_“Go back to the house. Find Tatsuya and lock yourselves in the cellar, alright? Stay down there and keep quiet. As quiet as you can be. They won’t think to look for you, so keep out of sight. No matter what.”_

_No matter what._

_Taiga bit his lip. He wanted to say he was scared and ask what was happening, but his voice wouldn’t come. The hand was very cold. It slid away and Taiga felt panic flood him. Tears prickled his vision. He wanted to scream._

_In the darkness, pillars of fire began to burst into life, spreading like a disease. He thought he saw shadows in them, flickers of hair and contorted bodies._

_The night reeked of blood_  
\---

Taiga woke with a start, one gasp half-choked in his throat. Shadows and fire spun around in his vision before fading, a high, sun-speckled ceiling taking their place. 

For a moment, he laid there staring at it, hearing his heart hammer through the walls of his skull. Cold sweat trickled down his neck and his mouth had gone dry. His shoulder ached like a mother.

“Fuck…” he whispered. Not that dream again…

“It’s about time you got up,” Tatsuya’s faintly amused face came into view. It turned into concern almost immediately once their gazes met.

“What’s wrong? Your shoulder bothering you?”

He was already leaning down, checking him over before Taiga could shake his head.

“No, Tatsuya, stop,” he pushed his brother’s hands away, sitting up, “I’m fine.”

“You sure? Midorima-san said we had to watch for fever.”

“Yeah, I’m sure. It doesn’t hurt.”

“But—“

“ _I said I’m fine,_ ” Taiga snapped, and winced at the look he got for it, “Sorry. I didn’t mean—It’s not my shoulder. I just…had a shitty dream is all.”

Tatsuya stilled, his eye softening. “About Alex again?”

Taiga was silent. Somewhat darkly, he wished he was a better liar, because now Tatsuya was sitting down, looking at Taiga like they were going to talk about it and that’s about the last fucking thing Taiga wanted to do. 

“What was it this time?” Tatsuya voice was deliberately blank, though very expectant.

Taiga exhaled, slumping.

“The fires…and the people. And how we just hid down there like—“

“Cowards?” his brother was looking at him sadly, “We were _kids_ , Taiga. There was nothing we could have done. Hell, back then, no one thought anything could ever be done.”

Taiga didn’t answer, his eyes sliding away. He already wanted the conversation to end.

But Tatsuya didn't let go of it yet. With a cool hand, he squeezed Taiga’s good shoulder.

“Alex wouldn’t want us to blame ourselves. She wouldn’t want you to think that…any of it was somehow your fault. You do know that right?”

 _But it was,_ a voice whispered, skittering down his ear, _It was your fault. Big brother just doesn’t know._

Taiga’s nails dug into his palm. It was right. As childish as it sounded, Tatsuya really didn’t understand him as well as he thought he did. 

He didn’t understand for instance, that flames and sobbing children flashed before Taiga’s eyes every single night. That he still smelled the coppery stench of the sky. That he could remember Alex’s pale, horrified face as the sentinel had turned to them, the code on its neck black and burnt. 

But these were things Taiga could never speak about. Not with Tatsuya or anyone. His brother was trying to find peace from the past. Taiga had no right to keep him from it.

 _Who the fuck are you kidding?_ His own voice echoed, disgusted, _You’re just afraid he’ll hate you._

“Taiga?” Tatsuya was still looking at him, still waiting.

Taiga breathed once, silently through his nose.

“Yeah, okay,” he said, forcing a smile, “Thanks, man.”

Tatsuya seemed hesitant, peering at his face carefully, but soon smiled back. 

“Anytime, little bro. You know I’m always here” he said, ruffling his hair and Taiga nearly sighed in relief as it marked the end of the subject. 

“Now come on, get up. Go shower so we can get out of here.”

Tatsuya stood, dusting himself off and that was when Taiga noticed he was already dressed, having traded in his Seirin uniform for some new clothes. They were huge on his brother’s willowy frame, but as this was Tatsuya, he still somehow made it work. 

“They’re Kise-kun’s,” his brother explained, sounding resigned, “We looked around the same height, but his shoulders are a lot broader than I thought.” He shook his head. “How do you even get this muscular from working at a tailor store all day? I wonder if Kuroko-kun ever feels self-conscious living here.”

A snort escaped Taiga before he realized it. “Not everyone cares about that sort of stuff, Tatsu-nii.”

He did get out of bed though, grabbing his shirt and pulling it on.

“What’s the big hurry anyway?

Tatsuya gave him a flat look. “Did you forget? We’re visiting the town today. I just heard from Kuroko-kun that he’s gotten permission from Akashi-san. They can find us a place and then we can start figuring out how to get back over the mountain. 

Taiga turned to him, more attentive now at the prospect of action. “What about the others? Are we going to look for them too?”

“Once we have some transportation, yes. Last I remember though, Izuki was with Kiyoshi and the Captain. Since he’s better at navigation than any of us, they could have made it back to the village on the other side. If not, we can still regroup with Aida-san, Furihata and the rest of them.”

Taiga nodded. At least it sounded like a plan.

\---

After a quick run in the shower, which Taiga came to discover was both outdoors and sporting a faucet high enough to graze the tree branches, they headed to the front of the house. Unlike the weird paraphernalia that seemed to litter the back rooms, the actual store was neat and normal-looking, with hundreds of labelled medicine jars and dried herbs lining the high shelves.

Murasakibara was nowhere in sight, but Midorima was scribbling into a chart at the front counter, looking like he’d been sitting there for hours now. When he saw them, he gave a stiff nod. 

“Kuroko is counting today’s stock. He’ll be back soon.”

“Of course,” Tatsuya said, before looking around expectantly, “Where is Atsushi by the way, Midorima-san? I haven’t seen him since last night.”

“Over the hill,” Midorima replied, “There were some…things he needed to pick up.” 

Taiga blinked at the random pause, but Tatsuya suddenly looked way more disappointed than the situation called for.

“Oh, I see. That’s a shame, I was hoping to talk to him before we left.” His smile had fallen clean off. You could almost hear the ‘splat’ as it hit the floor.

If Taiga could roll his eyes any harder he probably would’ve strained something. He made a note to ask his brother what the hell had even happened between him and giant number two. 

As if having similar thoughts, Midorima raised a single green eyebrow. 

“He will be back by this afternoon,” he said, “That is if he doesn’t get any more distracted. If you desire speaking with him, you can return then.”

Almost immediately, Tatsuya perked up. Distantly, Taiga wondered if he’d thought they wouldn’t be welcomed back here, thanks to his fight with that Aomine asshole.

“Oh, that’s a relief! Please excuse my intrusion then,” he said, bowing, “And we wanted to thank you again for your help, Midorima-san. The town must be relieved to have you and Atsushi here.” 

Midorima nodded a second time, even more stiffly than before.

“Your gratitude is unnecessary. It is simply what we were taught. I imagine clinics at the center of the empire have far better facilities than what’s available here.”

Taiga stared at him while Tatsuya’s smile weakened slightly. 

“I wouldn’t say that,” he said, “You need special permission to build clinics and pharmacies, and even then they’re highly sanctioned. I think we’ve come across only ten centers in all the years we’ve been travelling and half of them were in Teikou City.”

For some reason, Midorima seemed to find this incredibly shocking.

“ _Ten?_ How is that logical with all the recent epidemics?”

Taiga snorted. “Yeah, no kidding. But you know how it is. The Teikou want you to beg for everything. Unless you’re working for them, most of the requests for setting up get denied without even being looked at.”

He was probably coming off as more cynical than appropriate, but god he was sick to fucking death of it. All those doctors in the capital, all of them stinking of money and privilege, and not a single one gave enough of a rat’s ass to even look a dying kid in the eye. 

Midorima had a strange, unreadable expression on. 

“I see,” he said, though it didn’t sound like he did really. 

“I can’t believe you weren’t aware, Midorima-san,” Tatsuya said, puzzled, “Didn’t you have to receive permission for this place as well?”

Midorima gazed at him like they weren’t speaking the same language anymore. Before he could answer, however, another voice spoke. 

“Himuro-san, Kagami-kun.”

For the first time, Taiga found himself grateful for his injured shoulder. It was about the only thing that kept him from shooting through the roof. Unfortunately, it still didn’t stop him from crashing into Tatsuya, who in turn nearly stumbled over the countertop. 

“Whoa, Taiga, watch it!”

“Damn it, Kuroko!” Taiga spun around with a glare. The little shrimp had materialized a few inches away from him, hands tucked neatly into his jacket pockets.

“Good morning, Kagami-kun,” he said, blank face looking up, “Did you find your room comfortable?” 

“Don’t just greet me right afterwards! How the hell do you keep doing that?“

An innocent blink. “Doing what, Kagami-kun?”

“You know what! Th-that popping outta nowhere crap!”

“I’m afraid I don’t follow. I simply walked in from the back room.”

“You—!“

“Taiga, stop being rude,” Tatsuya frowned, smacking the back of his head. “Good morning, Kuroko-kun,” he said, smiling politely, “The rooms were amazing, thank you. Best rest we’ve had in months.”

“I am glad. I imagine the past two days have been exhausting for you.”

“Oh, not anything we’re unused to.”

They shared a polite laugh.

“I don’t doubt that. Shall we go then?”

Tatsuya gestured ahead of him. “By all means, lead the way.”

So Kuroko did, with Tatsuya following, and they both ignored Taiga completely despite the fact that he was left gaping in their wake.

Midorima flipped a page of his chart and scowled at him.

“Aren’t you leaving too?”

\---

Following a narrow dirt trail down the hill, the town of Kiseki came into view amongst a screen of morning mist. For a town settled at the base of a sentinel-infested mountain, it had a weirdly cozy vibe to it, as if left untouched by the Teikou’s shadow.

Taiga stared blatantly as they walked down the tidy stone road, passing by several clumps of houses on their way into the square. Like everywhere else these days, they were small and worn, but also held a quaintness to them that Taiga wasn’t use to seeing amongst the old shanties in Tou or Kaijo.

Modest little porches were also attached to each abode and there was even a pot of daisies at the sill of one of the windows. 

“Amazing,” Tatsuya said, voice soft, “This place…Is this all because of the soil around here?”

Instead of answering, Kuroko just nodded. 

As it was still early, there weren’t many people milling about, though that didn’t stop the ones who did see them from gaping. Tatsuya for that matter, was accosted by two squealing girls almost immediately. 

“Here we go again,” Taiga muttered, leaning against a tree a few paces away as he spoke to them, “I can’t believe people have even heard of us here.” 

“Seirin’s exploits are popular features on the radio, Kagami-kun. You know you have your own channel.” 

“What? Really?” That was news to him.

“Yes, Seirin Sagas, I believe it was called.”

Taiga nearly groaned. “…What?”

Kuroko’s mouth curved into a small smile, “The point is that you mean something to the people in this town, just like everywhere else.”

For some inexplicable reason, Aomine’s face popped into his head. All the dark anger in his expression and the resentment in his eyes. Taiga snorted, stuffing his hands into his pockets. 

“Yeah, well, I know not everyone’s ecstatic.”

Without even asking who he meant, Kuroko replied, “Aomine-kun is complicated. I agree that he had no right to speak to you and Himuro-san that way, but…what he says and what he means are not always the same thing.” 

There was a surprising amount of intensity in Kuroko’s expression, as if he was afraid Taiga wouldn’t believe him otherwise. After a moment, Taiga had to look away, discomfited. 

“R—Relax, it’s not like my feelings were hurt. He can believe what he wants.”

That wasn’t entirely true. Taiga didn’t like the idea of anyone thinking they were fighting the Teikou to feel good about themselves. The fact that Aomine took their desire for freedom and saw it as selfishness…it wasn't right and it pissed him off.

“You wanna tell me why he hates strangers so much?” Taiiga found himself asking, “I mean, I get that he wouldn’t want this place under the radar, but it’s not like the sentinels can get in anyway right?”

Kuroko was quiet—for a long enough moment that Taiga half-thought he wasn’t going to be answered.

“I think Aomine-kun is still a little lost,” he finally said, “We’ve been here so long, Kagami-kun. I don’t think he’s realized yet that no one can hide forever.”

Taiga blinked. There wasn’t time for him to ask for elaboration however, as Tatsuya had bid the girls farewell and was waving them over.


	5. Hellooo, nurse! (and the local grocers)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Taiga and Tatsuya meet Midorima's keep--nurse and run into a lot of other people too.

On the other end of the square were the shops. Like Midorima and Murasakibara’s place, they were all relatively big, with two stories and smooth tiles and paneling. Just more of the sturdy, polished and well-founded houses that seemed to be the norm around here. What was peculiar though, were the huge flags hanging in front of each store.

“Aren’t those the Yousen and Tou insignias?” Tatsuya asked, sounding puzzled.

Kuroko had led them to a wide and flat building with the doors and windows flung wide open. Indeed, the white and pink flag of the Yousen kingdom was hanging outside, while the black and red Tou one had been nailed to a support beam. Though that wasn’t what Taiga ended up staring at. 

In front of the store were rows and rows of bins, each almost spilled over with colorful fruits and vegetables. Flour and rice sacks were stacked in a neat pile against the wall and there was even a written sign indicating that customers looking to trade for meat should go inside.

Draped over the roof was a huge white banner with ‘Tou and Yousen Market’ written down in curling script. 

“Holy fuck…”

Both Tatsuya and Kuroko turned to him in disapproval, before a voice suddenly sounded in front of them.

“Hey, if it isn’t Kuroko!”

Standing at the doorway was a short, cheery-looking man with jet black hair.

Kuroko bowed, “Good morning, Takao-kun.”

“Maa, don’t be so formal. It’s been years already,” this Takao said, walking into the sunlight. Unlike the hulking towers Taiga had met so far, the guy had a normal build, with a slender frame that was only slightly broader than Kuroko’s, as well as a pair of sharp gray eyes.

He also had, for whatever reason, a bag of pineapples dangling from his hand.

“What a freak coincidence man. I was just about to go up today in case Shin-chan needed me,” he said, clapping Kuroko’s shoulder before realizing Taiga and Tatsuya were standing there. 

“Oh,” he said, startled, “I’m sorry guys, didn’t mean to interrupt.”

Taiga shrugged, while Tatsuya smiled and waved away his apology.

“No worries, Kuroko-kun was just showing us around town. We’re new.”

“New?” Takao looked surprised, glancing at Kuroko who nodded. “Wow, we’re really going for the record this week aren’t we?”

Without explaining what that meant, he stuck out his hand to Tatsuya and then Taiga, who shook it cautiously.

“Nice to meetcha, I’m Takao Kazunari,” he said, grinning, “I’m guessing you’ve already met the two colossus on the hill? Shin-chan and Mura-chan? Think of me as the guy who has to crawl under stuff when they drop something.”

“Takao-kun is Midorima-kun’s nurse,” Kuroko explained kindly, “…Though I suppose the more accurate term is ‘keeper.’”

Taiga and Tatsuya stared, but Takao burst out laughing.

“Part time only, Kuroko, don’t think I can handle Shin-chan for more than a few days at a time,” he said, and pouted, “I still haven’t weaned him off Oha Asa yet either.”

“We don’t expect you to work miracles, Takao-kun,” Kuroko replied, a note of sympathy in his monotone voice. 

Taiga kept staring. Tatsuya chuckled amiably.

“It’s nice to meet you, Takao-kun,” he said, “I’m Himuro Tatsuya and this is my younger brother, Kagami Taiga.”

Takao looked at them blankly

There was a beat.

“Haha, sorry, my hearing’s pretty lousy,” he said, sidling closer, “Run that by me again, huh? I actually thought you said _Himuro Tatsuya_ and _Kagami Taiga._ As in, haha, you know, Sei—” 

“—rin?” Kuroko finished, face blank, “They are, Takao-kun.”

There was another beat. 

“…Seirin? As in Mirage Shooter and Mad Tiger Seirin?” 

Taiga winced. “Yeah, let’s not call me that.”

Takao stared. His eyes were widening into saucers, an alarming stroke-like expression on his face that had Taiga taking a step back. Tatsuya shot a nervous glance at him over his shoulder, as if expecting him to do something.

Before they could panic however, another two voices floated from the entrance.

“Oi, shrimp, what are you still doing here? You ain’t gettin’ another crumb outta us!” 

“Mou, calm down, Wakamatsu-san. Takao-kun, is there something wrong?”

A pair of apron-clad figures had appeared at the threshold. One was a tall, pissed-off looking man, while the other was a girl with long-lashed magenta eyes and flowing pink hair.

They both halted, blinking at the group.

“Tetsu-kun?” 

“Kuroko, what--is that _Kagami Taiga?!!”_

Takao found his voice again. 

"OH MY GOD!"

\---

After some brief pandemonium, a bewildered Tatsuya and Taiga were introduced to Wakamatsu Kousuke and Momoi Satsuki. They were part of the Tou half of the market, handling shipments of food from overseas merchants and apparently listening to a shit-ton of Seirin Sagas.

Wakamatsu was especially enthusiastic and insisted on shoving a whole box of avocados into Taiga’s arms. 

“As a gift,” he said, with such intensity that Taiga hurried to thank him.

With their arrival, the noise had grown by tenfold and it wasn’t long before the rest of the workers were trailing out to complain.

Now, unlike his brother, Taiga often struggled with names. It had a bit to do with his poor memory in general and was something he didn’t have a problem admitting. Yet he was pretty sure the Yousen and Tou employees would be stuck in his head forever, if through nothing but their sheer contrast with each other.

The Tou members were on the leaner end, with a quivering, terrified-looking man named Sakurai Ryou, who just about fainted from shaking their hands, as well as a friendly, peaceful guy named Yoshinori Susa. Bringing up the rear was one of the co-owners of the market, a grinning, slit-eyed man named Imayoshi Shoichi. Unlike Sakurai, he spent so long shaking their hands that it got awkward and eyed Taiga like he was calculating how much his liver was worth.

The Yousen half consisted of just three people, though Taiga figured it was probably still pretty damn equal in terms of space taken up. Honestly, he would’ve thought people of Murasakibara’s height would be a bit of an anomaly under most circumstances, but here he was again craning his head up at Liu Wei and Okamura Kenichi, the other co-owner of the store. They were nice guys, despite Okamura's sudden outburst of tears when he saw Tatsuya. 

The third member, Fukui Kensuke, was far smaller, shorter than both Taiga and Tatsuya and coming in around Takao’s height. It was him who stormed out last, one humongous paper fan in hand.

Not a single word was said, but almost everyone started rushing back inside, leaving in a mess of thank-yous and requests for them to visit again. Wakamatsu also gifted Tatsuya with another box of bell peppers.

“I’m going on break!” Momoi chirped, throwing off her apron before hugging Kuroko’s arm, “You guys don’t mind if I come too, right?”

“Not at all Momoi-san,” Kuroko said, “But please do not hold on so tightly. It is making it difficult to walk.”

Momoi giggled and loosened her grip, tucking stray hair behind her ear. Up close, Taiga marveled again at how cute she was, beautiful even, and he could only imagine what Riko’s reaction would’ve been if she ever saw the size of that chest.

“Hey, if you’re gonna let people tag along, mind if I come too?” Takao asked, having finally gotten over his fit of hysteria, “Trust Shin-chan not to tell me when freaking _superheroes_ crash at the shop. Looks like Kerosuke needs another dip in the well.”

“We are not superheroes, Takao-kun,” Tatsuya reminded, for what was probably the eighth time now.

They continued walking down the pathway, stopping once more at a gray bricked building with the orange Shutoku flag fluttering at the front. Here, Takao halted, asking them to wait a minute.

“I pissed off one of the techs, Miyaji-san,” he explained, “Not that that’s a hard thing to do, but the director’s making me drop off a peace offering.”

With that, he ran inside, the two pineapples tucked beneath his arms. Taiga didn’t even bother asking. 

They stood around in silence for about two minutes, before a sudden bout of shouting came from inside. Taiga jolted, whipping towards Tatsuya, who looked just as startled. Momoi continued chattering happily at Kuroko, hugging his arm tight and not even blinking at the resounding crash and the clatter of what sounded like a dozen metal pans, before Takao came scurrying back out.

“That went well,” he said, cheerfully dusting off his sleeves even as they stared at him, “They’re in the middle of an experiment, but you’ll probably see them around town at some point too. Miyaji-san said he’s excited to meet you.”

Taiga had the urge to ask if ‘excited’ meant the same thing here as it did everywhere else, but refrained. 

“Shutoku Labs,” Tatsuya read on the banner, “Do you work here too, Takao-kun?”

“Yep, my other part time,” Takao said, folding his hands behind his head, “Well, I actually started here first, before Shin-chan asked for my help at the shop.” 

“Which he should've done right from the start!” Momoi said, sighing, “Midorin is so stubborn. He was worried about Mukkun’s back and Tetsu-kun had to run the store, so he tried to handle all the patients by himself.”

Taiga blinked.

 _What about Aomine?_ He almost blurted, before catching himself. Why did that jerk keep showing up in his head? 

Kuroko nodded, “He’ll probably never tell you, Takao-kun, but Midorima-kun needs you far more than he lets on.” 

Instead of being wildly amused like Taiga had expected, Takao just smiled again. 

“Shin-chan's in need of a lot of things, Kuroko. You know, like a sense of humor, a better haircut, an actual hobby, _an actual life_ , ” he listed on his fingers, before pausing, “…And it wouldn’t kill him to crack a smile now and again either. That’d be nice too.”

Something soft flitted by in Takao's eyes then, something almost forlorn, before vanishing a second later.

“Anyway, sorry for making you wait,” Takao said, spinning around, “Are we heading off the right trail then, Kuroko? To the cabin?”

How Takao knew where they were going when he literally joined thirty minutes ago was beyond Taiga, but Kuroko just nodded. 

“That’s where you’ll be staying, Kagami-kun, Himuro-san,” he explained and for some reason, Momoi beamed at them.

They walked down the right path, where Taiga could see a sturdy, handsome cabin in the distance. On the other hand, the left path had split off to another section of the town, where three buildings were nestled together. The banner strung over the roofs of two of them read out ‘Rakuzan Metalworks and Bookkeep.’

“There are Rakuzan people living here too?” Tatsuya said, having been looking over as well, “Oh, excuse me, I’m assuming the flags indicate where the residents come from.”

“You got it,” Takao said, thumping his chest, “Me and the other lab guys, we’re all natives of Shutoku. Well, the one before Teikou decided to move in anyway. The names are a little lame, but Akashi wants it, so nothing we can do about that.” 

Tatsuya blinked. “Oh, that’s a little…is there a special purpose for it?”

Takao shrugged, but Momoi suddenly jumped in.

“Akashi-kun just feels it’s important for everyone to remember where they came from,” she said, “Kiseki is beautiful, but it’s so isolated from the rest of the world. I think he’s hoping we’ll all be able to go home someday.”

She smiled hesitantly at them before darting a weird glance at Kuroko. He’d been largely silent so far and his face was smooth and expressionless as always. Inexplicably though, Taiga got the feeling he wasn't a fan of the flags.

“Man, good luck with that,” Takao said, oblivious, “Kiseki’s lonely, but I’ll take that any day over being mauled by sentinels. It’s a freaking miracle they never come down here.”

“Yes, it is quite remarkable that they don’t,” Tatsuya agreed, turning to Taiga, “I wonder if we could replicate the components of the soil here elsewhere too.”

For a second, confusion flitted across Takao’s face while Momoi’s eyes widened in panic. 

“The soil--?” 

“I’m sure the Teikou keep watch of the iron count, Himuro-san,” Kuroko said calmly, “It might be difficult to orchestrate.”

Taiga’s eyebrows rose.

“Yeah, that’s true enough, but what about this place?” He gestured around him at the stores and wide open greenery. “Your town basically runs on every single thing they’ve put the cap on.”

The issue had been bothering him for a while now. The emperor was so paranoid about uprisings that even sharing recipes with a neighbor could get you charged with conspiracy. It was unbelievable that he would overlook Kiseki, with its free trading and open health centers.

Takao snorted.

“Yeah, we’ll let you know once we figure that out.”

Taiga and Tatsuya looked at him.

“…Huh?”

“They don’t come around here,” he explained, “No one has a clue why. I mean, I’m thinking they probably know this place exists, with the sentinels crawling all over the mountain, but Akashi’s been doing whatever he wants for years now and they haven’t said a word.”

“B-But, the pharmacy, the clinic, you have a _blacksmith_!” Tatsuya stuttered, shocked beyond his usual composure.

Taiga just stared, trying to wrap his head around the idea. A place beyond the touch of the sentinels…beyond the Teikou…

Momoi frowned. “Takao-kun, you shouldn’t—“

“No, he’s right, Momoi-san,” Kuroko said, looking directly at Taiga, “It’s true that the Teikou don’t interfere with Kiseki. We have never gotten permission to set up any of the shops and the free trade system is exclusive to the town.”

“Plus, they don’t seem to care who’s in town either,” Takao added, “How’d you think Aomine was able to drag your whole team back here?”

Taiga blinked and said “Aomine?” at the same time Tatsuya said, “team?”

Takao grinned and gestured at the cabin door, which (though it had just occurred to Taiga) they were already standing in front of.

With a flourish, he knocked on the door.

Faint voices could be heard as footsteps pattered closer.

“Slow the hell down, dumbass! You wanna make the knee worse?”

“But what if it’s that girl selling those cookies again? I don’t think you appreciate how good those were.”

“No shit, you scarfed them all down before I could get one!” 

There was a laugh. “It’s too bad she ran out of the mini doughnuts. Then we could’ve got the HOLE platter.”

“...Seriously, you’re both dead to me.”

At this point, Taiga was already to the door, about to wrench it open himself before the knob had turned.

“…okay, fine! I’ll ask about the dough…”

Hyuuga Junpei trailed off. Taiga stood there blankly, as his captain stared at him. 

“…”

“Hyuuga?” one large and one small silhouette appeared behind him, “What’s— _Kagami? Himuro?_ ”

“Izuki,” Tatsuya said, voice faint, “Kiyoshi.”

There was a beat where they all just stood there, frozen in surprise. A whole damn minute must have passed, before the captain took a deep breath and succinctly summed up the situation .

"Holy shit."


	6. Reunions and Discussions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Seirin reunites and many words are exchanged

The Captain’s first reaction was to grab Taiga by the arm, unintentionally making him stumble and nearly fall on top of him.

“God, you made it,” he said, eyes shifting to Tatsuya over his shoulder, “Both of you.” 

Taiga nodded dumbly and with more shock than he meant to let through, said, "So did you guys."

Instead of a cuff to the head, there was more staring. 

“What happened to your shoulder?” his captain asked, after another moment.

“Huh?” He looked down, before remembering the huge bandage Murasakibara had wrapped him up in. “Oh, it’s fine. Got attacked by units, but they patched me up. Doesn’t hurt or anything.” 

Under normal circumstances, he was pretty sure the captain wouldn’t have taken his word for it or simply nodded blankly in reply. As it was, Hyuuga looked like he was having enough trouble just deciding what he wanted his face to express. Taiga must’ve stood there watching for a whole beat, before the edge of his lips twitched into a tight, awkward smile. 

“I knew you’d get out of there,” his captain said, releasing his arm.

He clapped him once on the good shoulder and despite the stiffness of it, the relief in Hyuuga’s eyes couldn’t be mistaken. Taiga felt himself smile back.

“It’s good to see you, sir,” he said and saw Tatsuya smile and nod too from the corner of his eye. 

He supposed the whole reunion could’ve just ended right after that. Captain Hyuuga wasn’t very adept at expressing much of anything but anger and sarcasm, so all the little feelings that’d been wrapped up in this situation would’ve been swept aside if he’d  
had his way.

Not that he ever did.

“KAGAMI! HIMURO!”

For someone his size, Kiyoshi-senpai was damn _fast_ when he wanted to be. 

Taiga croaked as all the air was suddenly expelled from his lungs. His brother and the captain, who’d been at least an arm’s length away, were suddenly crushed up against him, their expressions just as stunned.

“I can’t believe you guys are here!” Kiyoshi exclaimed, practically swinging them around by their necks. A dopey smile was wide on his face. “This is like _ten_ times better than cookies. How did you even get away? Not that we thought you wouldn’t but—oh whatever, it doesn’t matter! God, this is awesome! Isn’t this awesome, Hyuuga?”

“LET GO, YOU MORON!” Hyuuga’s eyes bugged, going from awkward relief to homicidal fury in less than a second. 

“Oh, come on, Hyuuga,” Izuki said, plastering himself to them as well, “Don’t you think we need to just hug it out for a minute?”

A pulsing vein on the forehead said exactly what the captain thought, but it was with blithe experience that Izuki ignored it, turning to Taiga and Tatsuya instead.

“Nice to have you guys back,” he said, smiling sincerely—a gesture Taiga would’ve reciprocated if he didn’t feel like his lungs were being compressed into paper.

“K-Kiyoshi,” Tatsuya squeaked, vaguely blue, “Can you l-loosen—it’s kind of hard to brea—“

Click

Their heads whipped around, just as Takao was lowering a rather clunky-looking camera from his face (and where the fuck had that come from?).

“Shit, this day’s just getting better,” Takao was muttering, grinning at the photo, “I can’t believe I got the whole team in one shot.”

“Most impressive, Takao-kun,” Kuroko agreed, studying the image, “If you took a few more, you could probably get some high-value trades in town.”

“I’d go to Hayakawa-san,” Momoi advised, “According to my data, he’d give you the best deal.”

Before Taiga could process that he was literally being exploited right to his face, Kiyoshi’s eyes widened further.

“Hey, when did Kuroko get here? KUROKO!”

Without another moment’s pause, Kiyoshi was barreling towards the trio, arms extended. Taiga would’ve taken perverse pleasure at how quickly their expressions morphed into terror if not for the fact that he was being dragged along for the ride.

“Oi! Stop running!” Hyuuga shouted, eyes wide, even as Kuroko’s arms flew up in a meager attempt to shield himself.

“K-Kiyoshi-san, please slow down!”

He didn’t of course. In fact, Kiyoshi-senpai did one even better by tripping over a stray pebble, sending them all hurtling off the porch in a tangle of limbs.

“Oops.” 

Takao and Tatsuya screamed, and though Taiga would swear against it later, he kind of did too. Kuroko pushed Momoi to the side at the last second, while Izuki laughed, perfectly cheerful, even as his feet fluttered in the air.

“Incoming~!”

\---

One literally bone-crushing group hug/dogpile later, Kiyoshi finally deemed it acceptable to release them. 

“Man, so you guys ended up at the clinic too huh? We must have missed each other by just a few hours,” he said, as they sat inside the cabin. He was still beaming and hadn’t stopped even after Hyuuga had tried to lunge at him, being barely dragged off again by Taiga. 

Tatsuya chuckled, hands nervously probing his chest to make sure his ribs were still intact. 

“It would seem so, though this really is unbelievable. We had no idea you were here.”

“Yeah,” Taiga added, giving Kuroko a pointed look, “You’d think this would be something worth mentioning early-on.”

Kuroko didn’t even blink.

“I thought it would be a nice surprise.”

Izuki laughed, “That was thoughtful of you, Kuroko-kun. Though our captain’s nerves should probably be spared this kind of stuff in the future.”

A glare was shot at him. “Shut up, Izuki.” 

“It’s true,” Kiyoshi said, grinning at Taiga and Tatsuya, “I mean we were worried too, but Hyuuga was freaking out. He was ready to tear back up the mountain again.”

“Kiyoshi!”

“Wouldn’t sit still either,” Izuki added, keeping up the tag-team, “He must’ve pissed the hell outta Midorima-kun, didn’t he, Takao-kun?”

The sharp-eyed boy chuckled. “Yeah, but Cancer hit twelfth that day so he was just in a shitty mood,’” he said, and then shrugged a little sheepishly at Taiga and Tatsuya’s stares.

“Right, did I forget to mention I was there too? It was my last shift, okay? One minute I’m trying to teach Shin-chan how to use his own stove and the next Aomine’s bursting in with the Iron Heart over his shoulder.”

\---

_“…okay, so see this knob here?” Takao pointed at a black button over the generator-powered stove, “It is very, very important, Shin-chan, that you do not forget to turn it off. Seriously. Like I want you to check eighteen times.”_

_“I know how a stove works, Takao.” Midorima snapped, scowl dark, “Why are we doing this? Murasakibara’s the one that cooks.”_

_Takao raised an eyebrow._

_“No kidding. He told me what happened last time you tried.”_

_A muscle in Midorima’s face twitched, “I was handling it.”_

_“Yeah? ‘Cause apparently Ryou-chan shunned you for six days.”_

_Midorima made a dismissive noise. “It was his own fault. He shouldn’t have been standing so close.”_

_Takao was about to point out that the other side of the kitchen did not qualify as ‘close,’ when a resounding ‘BANG’ echoed through the house._

_“Midorima!” Aomine’s voice roared, from somewhere further in, “MIDORIMA!”_

_Takao jolted, having never heard such urgency in Aomine before. There wasn’t time to contemplate it however, or even be surprised for very long, since Midorima was already racing out of the room. As they hurried through the winding halls, Takao caught the sound of things rolling to the ground, muttered curses and beneath it all, a faint and wisp-like moan._

_Takao’s eyes widened, but if Midorima seemed taken aback by the sounds, he certainly didn’t show it. With one long hand, he grabbed the handle of his office door and threw it open._

_Aomine was standing under a pool of lantern light, his shirt torn to ribbons. Two men were leaning against each other on his left side, while he supported a third against his right shoulder. The man's leg was mottled with bruises, the knee having swelled to the size of an orange._

_A whiff of burnt flesh crept through the room. Aomine glared at them._

_“Fucking finally."_

\---

“Ah, yeah, I remember that,” Kiyoshi nodded, “Jesus, he moved fast. We were at the top of the slope, but it felt like he reached us in seconds.”

Taiga and Tatsuya stared at him. Despite somehow missing it on their first glance, there was a long tight bandage around Kiyoshi’s right leg. Although expertly bound, the limb looked bulky and hard to maneuver. 

_Aomine carried him?_ Taiga thought, vaguely shocked, while his brother leaned forward. 

“Are you okay, Kiyoshi?” 

“Hm? Oh, fine, fine,” he said, waving away their concern with a laugh, “I’m fine. Looks a lot worse than it is.”

"Yeah, 'cause a torn ACL is nothing at all," Hyuuga snapped, "You're a freaking idiot, you know that? I told you not to get so close."

"Oh come on, Hyuuga, relax, I was trying to clear the pathway."

“What even happened, Captain?” Tatsuya interjected, eyes still wide with surprise. Hyuuga just shook his head.

"Y87. Came outta freaking nowhere and blindsided us."

"We were fighting our way down the mountainside," Izuki explained further with a sigh, as if just the memory was exhausting, "At least we know those rumors about Mount Kiseki are true now. The sentinels were everywhere."

“Hyaa, it was so scary,” Kiyoshi said, as if they were recounting some mundane walk through the woods, “It was acting like a G unit the whole time, so I got grazed by one of its V59 punches.”

Taiga winced hard. With all the traveling Seirin did, he’d seen the effects a direct hit from a V59 could do to the human body (at least in the cases where there was still enough of a body to look at). Although Y units didn’t have as much strength as the real deal, he couldn't imagine the experience had been any less unpleasant. 

As if reading his mind, Tatsuya said, "You're lucky that was the worst of it. Y87 packs up to eighty percent of the original’s power."

"He was lucky," Hyuuga snapped before Kiyoshi could reply, "We were all pretty damn lucky actually since no trees went flying from that fucking tornado punch."

Izuki patted his shoulder, before he could steadily work himself up again.

"What matters is that everyone's still kicking," he soothed, turning to Takao, "Is Aomine-kun alright by the way? I remember his arm was hurt pretty badly."

Taiga blinked. The memory of the white bandage Aomine had been sporting floated through his head.

“He’s fine,” Takao replied, “But his arm was a freaking mess. Turns out he was probably the most injured out of all you guys that night. Shin-chan must’ve yelled at him for at least an hour.” 

"So did I," Momoi said, an exasperated look crossing her face, "Stupid Dai-chan. I can't believe he hurt the same place again."

"How’d he hurt it the first time?" Taiga asked, surprising even himself with how intensely curious he sounded. Both the captain and his brother shot him stern glances, while Momoi seemed startled, looking strangely again at Kuroko, who answered.

“Just an accident, Kagami-kun,” he said, and there was no elaboration beyond that. 

\---

They talked a bit further about Kiyoshi’s leg, which would require at least a week to heal completely, before the matter of Taiga’s own injury was brought to the foreground.

“Ouch,” Izuki murmured, when Taiga pulled up his shirt, “Looks like you guys weren’t having a fun time either.”

“Where did you end up anyway?” the captain asked, “I remember the car was starting to give out.”

“We actually had to ditch it,” Tatsuya admitted, sending him an apologetic glance, “I’m not too sure where we were though, ‘cause we got separated afterwards. Kuroko-kun had already found Taiga by the time I saw him again.”

They all looked at him and though Taiga didn’t think “found” was exactly the right word, he gave a single, confirming nod. There wasn’t any pressing need to recount all the embarrassing things that happened that night after all.

Maybe out of generosity, Kuroko didn’t say anything either, keeping his gaze down.

“Were you attacked, Kagami-kun?” Momoi asked suddenly, “After meeting Tetsu-kun that is?”

Taiga blinked. “Uh, yeah, I guess it was a little after that. “

She stared at him.

“And it attacked you specifically?”

Her eyes were pinned on him, with such surprising sharpness that Taiga fumbled to reply. 

“U-Um, I’m not sure exactly, it happened too fast.”

Before Momoi could say anything else, Kuroko suddenly stood up. 

“I believe we should be on our way, Momoi-san,” he said, “It’s already past noon. Your break must have ended a while ago and I told Midorima-kun I would be back before lunch.”

At that, Takao’s eyes widened and he glanced out the window at the sun. “Aw, crap, is it that late already? I should probably go too. Gotta check if Miyaji-san wants to kiss and make up tonight.”

The rest of his teammates rose to see them out, with Hyuuga and Tatsuya thanking Kuroko once more, while Takao implored them all to come around town again (“Seriously, you guys are about the most exciting thing that’s ever happened to Kiseki.”) 

Taiga rose too, and despite feeling slightly perturbed, he clapped Kuroko on the shoulder.

“Thanks for everything, man,” he said, and then with more hesitation, added, “He probably doesn’t want to hear from me, but if you could tell Aomine…for my teammates…” 

“I will,” Kuroko said, smiling gently, “I actually hope to see you at the shop again, Kagami-kun.” His gaze was intense again, eyes sinking to half-lids so they accentuated how long his eyelashes were. 

He really was too pretty for a guy and Taiga felt his cheeks beginning to heat again.

“Sure,” he somehow managed to say.

Kuroko’s smile widened. 

“We await your arrival,” he said, bowing and then stepped out onto the path, Takao and an oddly reticent Momoi in tow.

\---

After bidding Takao farewell, Kuroko took care to walk directly past the market on his way back to the shop.

When Momoi followed him without even pausing, he sighed inwardly and turned to her.

“You are going to get in trouble, Momoi-san.”

She crossed her arms, giving him a stubborn and yet reprimanding look.

“And you’re planning something, Tetsu-kun.”

Kuroko stared at her. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Does Akashi-kun know that you were attacked?”

“Yes.”

“And that it was only after meeting Kagami-kun?”

Kuroko didn’t blink. “Of course. It is difficult to hide anything from him.”

“Not for you.”

A breeze sifted through their clothes, dry and hot. 

“I know you’re frustrated with Akashi-kun,” Momoi said, “It’s been five years, Tetsu-kun, and I know you are. I am too. And…and you don’t have to tell me anything, but Kagami-kun and Seirin, they’re good people and you have to promise me you won’t let anyone get hurt.”

There was silence. Kuroko just looked at her again—her furrowed eyebrows and scrunched up mouth. Momoi was one of the oldest friends they still had and likely the only one who kept their secrets. Even Akashi was fond of her, though that alone hadn’t been enough to win his trust. 

It hadn’t pushed her away. Their past, their problems, all the ugly, ugly things they kept from her. None of it had. 

She did not understand and never could, but she had still taken it.

She had still taken _them._

And as Kuroko continued looking at her, guilt began seeping through the crevices of his heart. Enough that he turned back to the road. 

“It is not my intention to hurt anyone.”

She laughed—a soft, wistful sound.

“I know that,” Momoi said, “It never was for any of you.”

He could imagine her smiling.

“But you break a lot of hearts, Tetsu-kun. It’s not what you intend, but it’s what happens.”

A shadow of pain lingered in her voice, old wounds being brought to the surface. Kuroko clenched his fists. He had rejected her as kindly as he could, as best as he could, but the ache was still in her and he did not know how to take it away.

“Momoi-san, I…”

“It’s okay,” she walked up next to him, a faint smile on her lips, “I think deep down, I always knew. That you weren’t mine.”

They looked at each other, but she did not let him reply—not that he would have known what to say anyway. 

“Well enough of that,” she said, turning away, “Let’s go. Midorin and Mukkun are probably annoyed with you and I’ve just decided I’m taking the rest of the day off. Sakurai-kun can cover for me.”

Her smile widened, though the sun cast shadows over her eyes. With a spun heel, she was running up the trail ahead of him, her footsteps pattering like drops of rain.


	7. Secrets everywhere

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Kuroko comes back and is unnervingly NOT yelled at and Midorima wears glasses for a very important reason.

They walked in silence from the town, passing the gateway and up through the thick grass and vines on the hill.

A line of villagers were making their way down. Most of them nodded in greeting, asking Kuroko various excited questions about Seirin and whether it was true they were staying in Kiseki.

Others however, trailed by with heads down, muffling their coughs into their sleeves, their hollowed features drawn and pale. 

Momoi and Kuroko exchanged glances. 

“There’s more of them today,” Momoi said. She was watching a mother trudge down the hillside, two coughing children clinging to her sleeves while an exhausted baby lay limp against her breast. 

“Yes,” said Kuroko, also watching, “The epidemics inside the empire must be getting worse.”

It was a sobering thought, that despite a two thousand feet shield of limestone and shale and all the power Kuroko has poured into this town, there were still some things he could not hide it from. 

Momoi was quiet, her eyes large and solemn. No detachment in them, not like Midorima who never looked his patients in the face, or Murasakibara’s listless incomprehension. 

“Can you imagine what life must be like there?” she said softly.

He couldn’t and though she had not framed the question as one that wanted an answer, it was important all the same. 

Akashi had warned them not to look back. He had reminded Kuroko countless times not to fall prey to pity, that they were not saviors or rebels or even good people and he should never expect anything more. 

They were choosing their own path, he had said, and there was no room on it for history, for regret or guilt or ghosts.

He was convinced it was the only way to move on. 

_Do you find me cruel, Kuroko?_

“Let’s take the back entrance, Momoi-san.”

\---

If there was one thing hopelessly unfortunate about the shop’s layout, it was that there was only one back door and it led straight into Midorima’s office. Originally added by Akashi for emergency purposes, the exit hadn’t been used for much in the past eight years aside from a quicker route to the showers. 

As of now, however, it was quickly making Kuroko feel like an after-hours teenager trying to sneak back into the house.

“You’re late.”

Midorima was seated at his desk, a clipboard in hand. Kerosuke had been moved to an unoccupied corner, pinning them to the entrance with its stare. 

“My apologies, Midorima-kun,” Kuroko murmured, holding the door for Momoi before hurrying in after, “I lost track of time.”

“Hn, clearly,” Midorima said, tilting his glasses, before looking at Momoi, “What are you doing here?”

“Mou, don’t be cold, Midorin,” the pinkette said, pouting, “We haven’t seen each other in forever and that’s the first thing you say to me?”

Midorima stared at her. “I saw you last week. And I just meant you should be at work.”

“Sakurai-kun will cover for me. It’s not as if they won’t get along for a few hours alone.”

“That kind of logic will get you fired.”

Momoi rolled her eyes. “Oh stop, Midorin. We can’t all be workaholics.”

Midorima remained disapproving, but didn’t comment further. 

Despite his usual scowl, he seemed surprisingly calm given how obviously busy the shop had been. Kuroko was not certain he liked it.

“We bumped into some customers that are waiting on prescriptions,” he said, “Is Murasakibara-kun back?”

Before there was an answer, the opposite door of office slid open and almost on cue, Murasakibara’s voice floated in.

“Here’s four batches, Mido-chin. Fever reducers added,” he said, hunching over to enter. Several large medicine jars were cradled in his arms and judging from the many smudges on his apron, he’d been at work for hours now.

“Ara, Kuro-chin, you’re really late,” he said, as his dull gaze landed on him. Like Midorima, he wasn’t nearly as annoyed as expected. In fact, Murasakibara’s eyes trailed off of him within seconds, moving to Momoi instead, where they widened in surprise.

“Sacchin?”

“Mukkun!” Momoi chirped and ran up to hug him. Murasakibara stared at the top of her head, slightly hesitant, though a smile flickered at the edges of his mouth. Bending low, he wrapped his free arm delicately around her shoulders.

“Are you here to yell at Mine-chin?” he asked, giving a single, light squeeze before letting go, “‘Cause he hasn’t been back all day.” 

Momoi blinked. “Eh? No, did something happen?”

Midorima scoffed, taking the medicine jars from Murasakibara.

“Nothing that would particularly surprise you.”

Seeing as this didn’t explain anything, Kuroko recounted the whole debacle of a dinner with Kagami and Himuro the night before and how Aomine’s simmering, but incessantly bad attitude had escalated into a fight with Kagami. 

“Oh, Dai-chan,” Momoi shook her head, looking troubled, “And I was wondering why he didn’t come by the market last night. He usually walks me home if I’m working late.”

“Kise-kun probably took him back to the tailor store with him.”

Momoi sighed, “That explains it. Honestly, sometimes I don’t understand Dai-chan. He’s so paranoid about strangers and yet he’s always bringing people back from the mountain. Wasn’t he the one that found Hyuuga-san and the rest of them?”

Kuroko nodded, face deliberately blank. Murasakibara shrugged while Midorima sported an odder expression.

“Hn, he also managed to burn half his arm off.”

His voice was curt and frosty, which was nothing new, but also stiffer than usual like he was recalling something of discomfort. Kuroko regarded him with puzzlement. He had still been out gathering herbs when Aomine had returned with the first three Seirin members.

It made him wonder how things had transpired.

\---

FLASHBACK BECAUSE UNLIKE KUROKO WE GET TO FIND OUT

\---

_Midorima closed the shop’s main door, listening to Takao’s footsteps rustle through the grass as he made his way downhill. He had spent almost twenty minutes outside, convincing the fool he could leave for the night and his glasses were now fogged up from the night’s mist._

_As if the damn things didn’t inhibit his vision enough as it was. With a scowl and resisting the usual urge to shoot them straight into the rubbish bin, Midorima plucked off the frames._

_A green glow washed over his eyes the instant the lenses were lifted away, refocusing the world in all its sharp and proper detail. Once again, he could see the searing white curves of the light bulb’s filament, could catch every individual thread of the old rug beneath his feet._

_Midorima took it in with a twinge of relief. Sometimes, he felt like he had spent the past eight years with a thick blanket over his face. He supposed in some respects, he had._

_He turned to the door and when he blinked again, the wooden slab dissipated as if made of smoke. He saw the orange gleam of the lanterns across the porch, the moths fluttering in the lights._

_Takao was trudging away on the path and every so often he would look back, a concerned furrow in his brow._

_Midorima made a soft, half-exasperated sound. He did not understand Takao. The only reason Midorima had sent him home was to keep him from getting on his lab team’s bad side again. And yet Takao had retained that same worried expression even on his way back into town._

_“They’re lost and hurt, Shin-chan,” he had said several times, “They were chased by sentinels across the mountain. Just be gentle, alright?”_

_About what, Midorima hardly knew. The men had been treated and were resting in the spare room. Limbs had been set, any bruises or festering wounds dealt with.  
He had been as gentle as he could’ve been given the nature of the injuries._

_What else did Takao want from him?_

What did he always seem to want from him?

_The edge of Midorima’s mouth tightened and he quickly wiped the glasses, sliding them back on before the thought could pull him in an inconvenient direction._

_As the frame settled into place, the world went out of focus again and the glow of his eyes faded. Takao disappeared in a wisp of breath, the door re-solidifying in his place. For a beat, Midorima stared at it._

_You are cold inside, boy,_ an old voice whispered, _As empty as a machine. There is nothing human in you left. You cannot understand and you never will, so why try?_

_Stiffly, Midorima turned, heading back down the hall._

\--- 

_When he stepped into his office again, Aomine looked up immediately, a hand still clenched around his wounded arm._

_In his typically crass way, he asked, “Well, are they fucked?”_

_Midorima scowled, but answered anyway._

_“Torn ACL and cracked patella on the one you carried here. Nothing on the other two besides bruises and scrapes. I’ll ask Momoi to take them to the empty cabin.”_

_Aomine gave a short nod. He didn’t look particularly relieved, despite how frantic he’d been earlier and he didn’t explain himself either._

_“I gotta go.”_

_With clear discomfort, he stood from the stool he’d been catching his breath on._

_A large hand shoved him back down almost immediately. Aomine choked from pain as his arm was jostled._

_“OW! What the fuck, Murasakibara!”_

_Seated in the opposite stool, Murasakibara barely glanced at him, rummaging through a medicine box with one hand while his other kept its iron grip on Aomine’s shoulder. He had returned from a trip to Akashi’s half an hour ago to complete chaos as Takao and Midorima dealt with the injured men._

_For about ten seconds he had stood there, taking in the scene with his dull eyes, before plodding off wordlessly for more bandages._

_“You stink of blood, Mine-chin,” Murasakibara said now, as if it wasn’t the most obvious thing in the world. Or an understatement._

_The whole room was nearly suffocating with the stench of it, to the point where Midorima wondered if it would seep into the walls and leave his office smelling permanently of rash stupidity._

_Aomine’s brow twitched, “I’m aware, idiot. Let go.”_

_He shoved at Murasakibara’s hand, a futile effort if Midorima had ever seen one. Murasakibara blinked at him._

_“Mine-chin,” he said, very slowly, like he thought he needed clarifying, “Your arm. is fucked up.”_

_“It’s just a burn, okay? Give it an hour and it’ll seal.”_

_“Not when it’s iron, fool,” Midorima interjected, eyes narrowed, “Let him bind it. You’ve already brought Seirin members into Kiseki. Don’t dig yourself any deeper.”_

_The look Aomine gave him was of pure confusion._

_“The hell are you talking about?”_

_Midorima folded his arms, sighing in disgust. For once, he was actually grateful Takao kept changing the Oha Asa forecast to Seirin Sagas._

_“Those three men. Takao kept saying they resembled physical descriptions of key Seirin members.”_

_Aomine stared at him._

_“That doesn’t mean anything,” he muttered, more to himself than Midorima, “Takao could’ve been wrong.”_

_“He isn’t,” Murasakibara said suddenly and they both turned to him. He was unscrewing a huge jar of salve and gave them each a minute glance._

_“Aka-chin told me to tell you that,” he said._

_Midorima’s eyebrow arched. “He knows already?” He glanced at Aomine, whose face flashed at lightning speeds through phases of surprise, concern and then flat acceptance._

_“Thought he didn’t like playing psychic.”_

_Murasakibara shrugged._

_“Great,” Aomine’s shoulders slumped, “Does it matter that I didn’t know?”_

_“Nope, he told me to tell you that too.”_

_Aomine shot him a glare, giving a half-hearted punch to Murasakibara’s hand—a move that would’ve broken a grown man’s knuckles. Midorima wasn’t sure Murasakibara had even felt it._

_“Fine, whatever, I’ll deal with him later. How long are you going to take? Tetsu’s still out there.”_

_Midorima almost rolled his eyes. “We’re aware,” he said, pushing up his glasses, “I saw him over the hill, picking herbs still. No sentinels have bothered with him.”_

_As usual. While the rest of them drew in the wretched creatures like flies to honey, Kuroko only seemed to repel them. Strange, seeing as they’d all been created in the same way._

_Though then again, he supposed Kuroko had always been different._

_“So? What if they suddenly decide to?” Aomine demanded, and then hissed when Murasakibara began forcefully tearing off his sleeve. The brown-black flesh was charred, so covered in dried blood and oozing wounds that the skin had practically been glued to the fabric._

_“Do you…ow, fuck…Do you even remember him in a fight?” he grinded out through clenched teeth, “Tetsu’s a lot of things. But in battle, he’s just worthless.”_

_That was a fairly accurate description, Midorima thought. From the very start, Kuroko had never been able to keep up with the rest of them. Even their monthly basketball games, which the whole town seemed inexplicably obsessed with and were thus always played at substandard speed and capacity, were taxing for him._

_“Hn. If you’re really so concerned, then go tell Kise to get him.” God knew he would leap at the chance._

_Aomine snorted. “Can’t. He ran off again with that pissy boyfriend of his.”_

_Midorima’s eyes widened slightly. “What? Out of town?” It seemed like everyone was prodding at Akashi’s temper this month._

_“You didn’t hear it from me,” Aomine murmured and then nudged the long-sleeved arm next to him, “Are you done yet?”_

_Murasakibara grunted, having been silently wrapping up Aomine’s arm and slathering the burnt areas in copious amounts of salve. “Hmm, almost,” he said, and then looked at Midorima strangely._

_When he received nothing but an arched eyebrow, Murasakibara pointed at the last section of Aomine’s sleeve, which Midorima just noticed he had left untouched. The tattered fabric hung loose over the puckered wounds—a veil over his upper arm._

_The room became very still._

_Slowly, an icy, age-old sense of paranoia began to trickle into Midorima as he stared at it. Aomine’s mouth flattened into a thin line, while Murasakibara’s eyes trailed between them, wanting direction._

_“Should I, Mido-chin?”_

_“Wait,” Midorima pulled off his glasses, the stream of green light flooding through his eyes again. He blinked, looking past the shop walls and ceiling, checking the nearby thickets, the trail Takao had walked down. No one._

_Midorima checked again and then once more for good measure, before finally nodding._

_“Do it quickly.”_

_Murasakibara did. It was one of the few things they could convince him to be fast about. When Aomine’s sleeve completely came off however, Midorima’s skin prickled and he moved to hover over them, blocking what was underneath with his body._

_“You need to relax, Midorima,” Aomine said quietly, “Takao’s not gonna come racing back.”_

_Midorima’s head snapped down to him, glowing eyes bright and cold. “Shut up.”_

_The look Aomine sent him was tired and irritated, but for once he said nothing more._

_It was a short eternity later before Murasakibara finished disinfecting the wound and wrapping it up. Midorima took a step back, releasing a breath he hadn’t realized he was even holding._

_As much as he’d tried not to, irrational scenarios of Takao coming back had flashed before his mind. That maybe he had forgotten something here and Midorima had somehow missed him during the scan. That he would walk in and see Aomine’s arm and what was written on it and piece everything together because he was too shrewd for his own good. And the color would drain from his face then, his eyes shrinking into dots like the nameless faces Midorima still dreamed about and the_ look _he would give them, give_ him. 

_“You need to be more careful, Aomine,” Midorima said, fists clenched so tight they were bloodless, “I can’t have you always—it’s not safe.”_

_Aomine was silent._

_Inexplicably, this angered Midorima. The momentary panic had left him off balance, the emptiness in his chest, usually so dependable, felt jagged and wrong. It was unacceptable._

_“Why do you keep doing this anyway?” Midorima said, the words leaping out of their own accord, “Just for a few strangers—a few pointless moments of sentiment, you’ll risk exposing us?”_

_Us._

_Us._

_Us._

_Some distant part of Midorima registered that it sounded too much like Akashi._

_“Mido-chin,” Murasakibara said, his eyes softer than usual, almost concerned, “You’re gonna break your glasses.”_

_The words had barely landed before there was a faint’ snap.’ Midorima looked down, opening his palm. The mangled remains of his glasses stared back up at him, the hinges bent the wrong way—the edges pressing into his finger._

_And like that, all the anger drained from Midorima as quickly as it had risen._

_Aomine stood, one hand steadying himself on the stool._

_“They would’ve died,” he said, “What did you want me to do?”_

_Midorima did not say it. He did not say it, even though the unspoken words bounced all over the walls, so that they were louder than if he actually had._

_“I thought you didn’t care.”_

_“I don’t,” Aomine replied, and a shadow fell over his eyes, “But no one deserves an end like that.”_

_They were silent again._

_Murasakibara tilted his head, alien confusion in his eyes._

_Perhaps if it were Kuroko, there would’ve been some sort of speech, some half-desperate attempt to get through to them. But Aomine wasn’t Kuroko and he had never cared whether they understood or otherwise._

_Instead, he walked forward, taking the broken glasses out of Midorima’s hand._

_“I’ll drop ‘em off with Mibuchi,” he said, and then was gone._

\---

“Mou, Dai-chan had me so worried,” Momoi said, snapping Kuroko out of his thoughts, “I swear if it wasn’t because of the Zone he would be dead at least three times over by now.”

“Kuro-chin too,” Murasakibara said, and a sudden pressure came down over Kuroko’s head, “’Cause he’s a weakling.”

Kuroko stared up at the towering figure. “Murasakibara-kun…”

“I’m just being honest,” Murasakibara settled his chin over his clasped hands, “You get sick way more than any of us and you’re not very good in a fight either. I don’t think the Zone likes you very mu—Ouch!”

Like a spooked horse, Murasakibara yelped and reeled off of Kuroko, who lowered his hand from where he’d just delivered a hard pinch to the bicep.

“Please do not use me as a headrest, Murasakibara-kun.”

Murasakibara pouted, rubbing his arm. “That hurt, Kuro-chin.”

“It was suppose to.” 

Momoi giggled while Midorima shook his head.

“Speaking of sickness,” he said, and picked up two of the jars, “Take these back with you, Momoi. There are several people in town that have been infected and it’s unclear yet if they’re contagious.”

Momoi blinked, surprised, but accepted the medicine, struggling to hold the large, heavy containers.

“Thank you, Midorin, but don’t you want to trade for this?”

“It’s fine,” Midorima sent a brief, sardonic glance at Murasakibara. “Consider this our payment for all the extra food Murasakibara conned out of the Yousen side last week.”

“Ehh, that’s not fair, Mido-chin. I _asked_ Gorilla-chin if I could have some extra bread. He didn’t have to say yes.”

“He would never say no when you’re openly wailing and causing the biggest scene imaginable! And call him by his proper name at least!” 

Murasakibara just looked at him innocently, like he really did not have the faintest what he was going on about. Kuroko changed the subject.

“Has it really gotten this bad?” he said, remorseful, “I apologize again. It must have been very difficult to manage shop today.”

Instead of replying, Midorima’s eyes widened, as if he had just remembered something important.

“Actually, Kuroko, we—“

“It’s okay, Kuro-chin,” Murasakibara cut in obliviously, “We had extra help.”

Kuroko blinked. Help? To his knowledge, Aomine hadn’t returned yet from last night and Kise had his own job to worry about. Today was also Takao’s day off. Who else…

Then Kuroko knew. And he went very, very still.

Beside him, Momoi’s eyes widened in realization as well--one split second before the office door slid back again. 

“Kuroko,” Akashi said, stepping inside, “Where have you been?”


	8. The town at Kiseki Mountain part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Akashi is not pleased, Taiga meets Kaijo and Satsuki sees something in the grove that shouldn't be there.

“A-Akashi-kun!” Momoi exclaimed, the first to speak, “You surprised me. It’s unusual to see you here.”

“I had a free afternoon,” Akashi said, untying his apron strings, “And it seems Midorima and Murasakibara were very short on hands today thanks to our new guests.”

The whole room seemed to wince. Momoi’s eyes slid anxiously to her right, where Kuroko was sporting his usual blank face, the earlier shock having dissipated.

“It will not happen again,” he said quietly.

On Momoi’s left, Midorima took a step forward, looking vaguely guilty and about to say something. A sharp knock outside beat him to it.

“Akashi-sama!” a voice yelled and the front door was heard opening with a loud ‘clack,’ “Akashi-sama, are you here?”

Before anyone could react, footsteps were already thudding down the hallway, tripping twice along the way. A minute later, the office door was slid back, revealing a one of the town residents at the threshold—a middle-aged man with peppered hair and a lined face drenched in sweat, as if he had just sprinted through the entire town and up the trail in one breath.

“Watabe-san?” Midorima and Murasakibara said together, staring incredulously.

“Midorima-kun, Murasakibara-kun,” the man managed between pants, “S…Sorry about barging in like this, but I heard Akashi-sama was—“

He cut himself off abruptly as his eyes landed on Akashi, calmly standing in the back.

“Akashi-sama!” he cried, letting go of the frame to stumble forward, “Akashi-sama, _please_.”

Kuroko and Momoi exchanged bewildered looks, eyes widening in concern at the deep desperation in the man’s tone. Akashi did not even blink.

“We have already spoken, Watabe-san,” he said.

“But it is only over the mountain. Please, they’ll be safe from the sentinels here—“

“The rules are very clear,” Akashi said, folding up the apron, “In any case, your village is on the outskirts of the empire. It is very unlikely for them to encounter sentinels.”

“But the disease is spreading!” Watabe protested, his face pale, “It won’t be long before it reaches the village. There are children and elderly there. My wife is still—”

“I am sorry, Watabe-san. I cannot help you.”

Icy panic filled Watabe, his eyes flitted up and down as his mind raced. Akashi was a young man, but small-statured and though not without muscle, his long robe hinted at a lean and wispier form. If it had been anyone else, Watabe would have considered using threats instead and was only stopped by a small corner of him, deep in his bones, that knew he would profoundly regret such an act.

It knew he was dealing with a being he could only beg and grovel with, hoping to appeal to whatever compassion it possessed. The feeling could not be explained, but not for a second did he doubt it was right.

With that despondent thought in mind, Watabe chose the only course available and crashed to his aging knees. Momoi cried out in surprise.

“Watabe-san!” she rushed forward and took his arm, but the man would not let her pull him up.

“Please,” he said, eyes only for Akashi’s crimson form, “Please, Akashi-sama. My son has not seen his mother in years.”

“You have always been free to leave Kiseki any time you please,” Akashi said, voice measured, cold, “My only requirement is that you never return.”

“Akashi-kun!” Momoi snapped, a reproachful frown on her face that wasn’t even glanced at.

“If you are concerned that the town’s location will be jeopardized, I swear to you,” Watabe begged, “I will never breathe a word. No matter what may happen to me. Let my people come here, Akashi-sama. You…You must have mercy.”

As he spoke, he planted his forehead on the ground, prostrating himself fully. Akashi stared down at him, his brows slightly knit as exasperation flickered in his eyes. Not a hint of relenting was evident however, and Momoi’s heart fell for the man.

She was just silently willing Watabe to brace himself for the rejection, when a shadow suddenly casted over them. Both Momoi and Watabe looked up, nearly jolting out of their skins at the sight of Kuroko kneeled in front of them.

“Please stand up, Watabe-san,” he said, polite voice softened further, “We can discuss the situation.”

“K-Kuroko-kun,” Watabe grabbed his sleeve, “Please, Kuroko-kun. My people, my wife…”

“We will figure something out,” Kuroko said, a hand covering the older man’s as he pulled him up, “They will not be left to die.”

Behind him, Akashi blinked slowly. “Kuroko,” he said and the warning in it was deafening.

Kuroko turned around, “I might have an idea. Please allow me to listen to the details.”

Akashi’s eyes narrowed, but Kuroko’s gaze was resolute, almost in challenge. There was a long silence as Akashi’s gaze shifted from him to Watabe and back again. No one could perceive what he was thinking, until finally he nodded.

“Very well. But this is not the place for it. We will talk at mine.”

Watabe slumped in visible relief, “Thank you, Akashi-sama. _Thank you_.”

As Kuroko helped steer him out the back door, still blathering with gratitude, Akashi turned to Midorima and Murasakibara—both of whom had yet to unfreeze themselves from their spots.

“Midorima, Murasakibara left Seirin’s car in the grove beyond the hill. Go with him and scan it for iron. You too, Momoi.”

At her name, Momoi blinked, turning to him.

“Ehhh?” Murasakibara was moved to say, “Why do I have to go, Aka-chin?”

“I want the car brought down here afterwards.”

“But—"

Akashi’s stare became more pointed, effectively shutting Murasakibara down mid-sentence. With a disgruntled sigh, he nodded, trudging towards the door. After another moment, Midorima wordlessly followed behind while a more hesitant Momoi trailed after, shooting him a skeptical glance.

“Are you really going to listen to Testu-kun’s idea?”

Akashi looked at her.

“If he indeed has one,” he said, not in the least offended.

\----------------------------------------------------  
\----------------------------------------------------

“So how come you don’t haveta use a needle on that thing?”

Kasamatsu Yukio clenched his teeth, the perpetual vein on his forehead beginning to pulse as he was interrupted again for the eighth time. Whipping around on his stool, he sent Aomine a withering look.

“What are you talking about?”  
“That,” Aomine said, waving a hand at the sewing machine he was on, “When Satsuki fixes stuff, I always see her use a needle.”

“There is a needle in this.”

“Don’t see it.”

“You’ve seen it for several goddamn hours now,” Yukio stomped on the pedal, making the machine whir to life for a second, “This thing.”

“Heeeeeh,” Aomine spun in a lazy circle, “That seems pretty unnecessary.”

Yukio could think of a few other things that were even more unnecessary, but simply scowled and turned back to his work. He must have finished about a stitch and a half, before Aomine’s voice floated over again.

“So how come there’s no thread either?”

Yukio nearly broke the pedal. With murder in mind, he whipped around a second time, only to be stopped by a hand grabbing his shoulder.

“Calm down, Kasamatsu,” Moriyama said, coming out of fucking nowhere, “It’s just a question. You’re getting way too worked up.”

Yukio glared. “Shut it,” he snapped, shrugging him off, “You can’t sit here and tell me he hasn’t been annoying the shit out of you too.”

A patronizing expression crossed Moriyama’s face and he looked like he was about to embark on a whole spiel about his profound and infinitely superior capacity for patience. Or at least until Aomine decided to lean back, propping his feet on a shelf stacked with the kimonos he’d just completed.

The lid of Moriyama’s eye twitched.

“Come to think of it, why is he here again?”

That was a question Yukio would have loved the answer to and had yet to be informed of. The tanned, over-muscled brat had been lounging on the goddamn comfiest chair in the room for practically the whole day now, with zero sign of leaving any time soon. He didn’t seem exactly thrilled to be here anyway, having spent the past few hours staring at the ceiling in a bored daze.

None of it made any damn sense, though Yukio supposed that was par for the course when it came to Kise and his weird-ass friends.

“Moriyama-senpai, we found extra fabric in the cellar!” an overly-bright voice suddenly trilled.

In his usual cloud of twinkles and sunshine, Kise came strolling in with Kobori, two cardboard boxes in their hands. The cheer on his face when Yukio was having such a shitty time was plain unacceptable.

“KISE!” he said, leaping to his feet and Kobori, ever the perceptive man, reached out and took Kise’s box. The blonde himself blinked dumbly as his eyes widened.

“Uh, wha—OW!”

With a yelp of pain, Kise bent over, grabbing his back dramatically. Yukio landed down again, satisfied, while Moriyama and Kobori sighed and Aomine tried to balance a pencil on his nose.

“That hurt!” Kise pouted through tearing eyes, “What are you doing, Kasamatsuicchi?!”

“That’s my line! And I told you not to call me that!” with one hand, he grabbed the kid by the shoulder, yanking him down so he could hiss in his ear, “Don’t you think it’s time for your pal to hit the road? I let him stay the night, I let him hang around all day, he’s getting on my last fucking nerve and I don’t think he even wants to be here.”

“I know, I know,” Kise pacified, glancing over his shoulder, “You guys have been saints, alright? I really appreciate how awesome you’ve been. Just let him stay till the end of today and I promise we can kick him out afterwards.”

Yukio’s scowled deepened and he told himself it was the flattery, _not_ the genuine distress in Kise’s voice that was making his anger deflate.

Ever since he’d met the brat years ago, Kise had possessed a strange ability to annoy the ever-loving shit out of him one second and be impossible to say ‘no’ to the next. It was how Yukio ended up relenting last night when he’d dragged a pissed Aomine to their door, his puppy-dog face on full blast. God, he was such a sucker…

“At least tell me why the hell he’s here,” he said, sighing, “Did he get kicked out or what?”

“No, uh…it’s kind of complicated,” something in Kise’s eyes shifted then and he suddenly motioned Kobori and Moriyama over too, forming a little huddle.

“See, today’s…a special day for Aominecchi,” he said, voice lowering conspiratorially, “It’s the anniversary of Kurokocchi’s rejection of him.”

Yukio stared. To his left, he saw Kobori blink while Moriyama leaned in, suddenly very interested.

“He liked Kuroko-kun? Since when?”

“Oh, forever. Since we were kids basically. But Kurokocchi didn’t feel the same and every year since Aominecchi gets real broken up about it. Like the ugliest sobbing you can imagine. He’s in a fragile state and I couldn’t just leave him alone with only Midorimacchi and Murasakibaracchi for company. It’s my duty as a friend to—OW!”

The three Kaijo members reeled backwards as Aomine lowered his foot, having just delivered a swift kick to Kise’s ass.

“Thanks for all the support over the years,” he said, cracking his knuckles, “You’ve really been something alright.”

“Ah-haha, you heard us? Your ears are so sharp, Aominecchi…!”

“They’re not the only things that’re sharp,” Aomine said darkly and it must have been a trick of the light, since Yukio swore he saw the brat’s hand glow _blue_ for a second.

Kise gave another nervous little laugh and straightened, dusting himself off.

“Right, so there you have it, Kasamatsucchi. Hope that’s answered your question. Now could you guys all excuse us? It seems someone’s still in a pretty delicate frame of mind here.”

Yukio stared at him and was about to ask what kind of idiot Kise thought he was when Kobori and Moriyama spoke first.

“Of course, Kise, we’ll go right away.”

“Don’t let it get you too down, Aomine-kun. It may surprise you, but I’ve been on the receiving end of a few rejections myself.”

Aomine said nothing, expression flat. He looked like he was trying to burn a hole right through Kise’s skull.

For that matter, Yukio couldn’t really find words either, with how hard he was gaping at his colleagues. It was probably the only thing that kept him from protesting when Kise began ushering them along.

“Thanks for understanding, senpai!” he chirped, before practically shoving them out and slamming the door after.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------  
\-----------------------------------------------------------------

The moment the door clicked shut, Ryouta found himself dodging as a basket of doilies came flying at his head.

“The fuck was that, Kise?!” Aominecchi roared.

“It can’t be helped, can it?” he defended, ducking with long-familiar grace as the basket sailed over his head and crashed against the wall, “I can’t tell them the most famous two members of Seirin are staying at the shop. Harasawa-senpai would be up there for days and Midorimacchi would kill me!”

For some reason, this did not seem to placate Aominecchi at all.

“I’m only ten feet away,” he growled, “You really worrying about what Midorima’s gonna do to you?”

The tip of his hands pulsed as he spoke and Ryouta watched a faint blue glow outline them—the one he’d almost let slip earlier in front of Kasamatsuicchi (thank god his dear Senpai was such a rationalizer). Like an old memory, it set his heart pounding—not out of fear anymore, but an all-encompassing awe that had never went away.

And something a little newer, like anticipation.

If they hadn’t been standing in the middle of all the Senpai’s work in fact, Ryouta would have considered provoking him into a fight. _It had been a long time,_ a small voice wondered, _he couldn’t possibly still be so far behind, could he?_

“It’s not as if what I said isn’t true,” he said, “The only thing off was the date.”

Silence.

It occurred to Ryouta after a beat that he could have phrased that a bit better. Instead of getting angrier however, the fury suddenly drained from Aomine’s face, leaving it empty.

“Heh, guess you’re right.”

The glow in his hands disappeared and Aominecchi looked away, shoulders slumping, as if just admitting that was exhausting for him. A wave of guilt rose up in Ryouta.

He supposed he had always felt a little sorry for Aominecchi. He was brash, impatient and rude, yes, but he also felt on a very deep level, in a way that Ryouta didn’t think he or any of the others could ever relate to. It was the way he looked at Kurokocchi, full of wonder and frustration and longing. How he use to stutter and blush whenever they grazed hands or how he’d still worked up the nerve to confess in the end, fully knowing he’d be shot down.

It wasn’t something that was easy to watch.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he said softly and walked over, plopping down on a stool next to his friend.

He looked up, head tilting as he changed the subject.

“You wanna tell me what last night was about?”

Aominecchi didn’t seem eager to talk about much of anything, but Ryouta gave him the firm look he’d copied from Momocchi and he relented with a sigh, collapsing down next to him.

“I don’t know okay? They’re always on the airwaves, letting the whole goddamn world know how noble and good they are, it pisses me off.”

Ryouta blinked. “That’s unfair, Aominecchi,” he admonished, “It’s not like Seirin set up that station themselves or go looking for attention.”

Hell, he personally thought their lives would have been a lot easier without someone announcing to the Teikou where they were every few days.

Aominecchi looked frustrated. “I know that. I’m not blaming them for that, I…” his brow furrowed, “Something about that guy bothered me.”

“Himurocchi?”

“No, the other one, with the eyebrows Murasakibara keeps obsessing over.”

“Oh, Kagamicchi,” he gave his friend a knowing look, “’s that why you kept trying the ‘if looks could kill’ routine on him?”

Aominecchi glared, but didn’t bother retorting.

“After I’d lugged the first three back to the shop,” he said, “I went to look for Tetsu and found him with that idiot. There was a sentinel laying there too.”

Ryouta nodded. He couldn’t quite gauge the situation since Kurokocchi hadn’t been clear on the details when he’d explained it to them, but just the fact that a sentinel had managed to get so close to town was no joke.

“I know. Akashicchi’s going to freak out. We’ll all probably be going on patrol with you by next week.”

Aominecchi shook his head.

“It’s not that,” his eyes narrowed, “The thing looked fried.”

“Probably from iron right? Seirin’s whole arsenal’s made of that annoying stuff.”

Aominecchi’s eyes narrowed further. “It was _charred_ , Kise. And pieces of it were flung all over the grove. No weapon could do that to a sentinel. Not even iron.”

Stuffing his hand into his pockets, he leaned back, his bemused gaze on the ceiling.

“It was like…it fucking exploded or something. From the inside out.”

Ryouta stared.

“Wha—“

_“KYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!”_

Flying a clear inch into the air, Ryouta barely kept on his stool as an ear-splitting shriek shook the building’s foundations.

“Holy shit,” spinning around, he turned wide eyes to the door, “Did that come from outside?”

Aominecchi’s brow rose, gaze shifting as well. “You tell me.”

Even before the words had finished, a piercing green light was already washing over Ryouta’s amber eyes, magnifying every inch of the room by thousands of degrees. As it had been months since he’d last used Midorimacchi’s copy, it took him a second to orient to the sudden intensity of detail and a few more before the wall finally melted away, revealing the scene outside.

Ryouta blinked. “It’s Hayakawa-senpai.”

His final senior seemed to be in the middle of some kind of demonic fit, eyes bulging and hands pulling at his hair. Moriyama and Kobori-senpai were standing on either side of him, making meager attempts at calming him down, while Kasamatsucchi stood in front, looking somewhat frozen.

And directly across from them all was…

Ryouta leaped to his feet, not even noticing when he knocked over the entire work bench, “Kagamicchi and Himurocchi!”

“Speak of the devil,” Aominecchi might have muttered, but Ryouta was already racing for the door.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------  
\-----------------------------------------------------------------

If Taiga had been impressed by the speed news travelled in Kiseki this morning, it was nothing compared to now. Only about ten minutes had passed since they left the cabin and already he had lost count of how many times Tatsuya had been stopped by blushing girls and women, eager to thank him or shake his hand.

“You know, if that didn’t look exhausting as hell, I’d almost be jealous of you,” he said, after his brother waved off the latest group.

Tatsuya shrugged, a good-natured smile on. “There’s no harm in obliging. Though it is a bit of a shock so many people recognize us all the way out here. I had no idea we were well-known enough for a radio narrative.”

Taiga snorted. “Yeah, neither did Captain apparently.”

To say Hyuuga-senpai hadn’t been thrilled about Seirin Sagas was an understatement. Pretty much anything besides “spastic, incoherent rage” would have been an understatement.

It was the main reason they were out here at all in fact, as one look at the Captain had foretold of a _very long_ rant in the making, which they had scattered from like terrified birds.

Kiyoshi-senpai, for all his energy earlier, had suddenly declared he was tired and beat a hasty retreat for the bedroom. Tatsuya was quick enough to volunteer both of them to get everyone’s clothes patched up, leaving Izuki-senpai stranded.

Taiga winced at the memory of his death glare as Captain Hyuuga snapped for him to sit tight because he needed to blow off some steam. He would have to remember to be extra polite to Izuki-senpai for the next few days.

“Riko-san isn’t going to like this either,” Tatsuya said, a concerned look flitting across his face, “I hope they’re all okay. Who knows where the sentinels could have gone.”

“They’ll be fine, Tatsuya,” he reassured, “She’s not gonna let any of the other guys go up the mountain searching for us. As long as they stay away, nothing’ll happen.”

Tatsuya didn’t look convinced, but he sighed and nodded.

They walked the rest of the way through the square in silence, observing the general bustle. The people of Kiseki seemed a lot more active at dusk and many of them were out strolling, greeting friends and hurrying through on errands.

Occasionally, he caught glimpses of pallid faces or a mouth disappearing behind a sleeve to cough, but overall the place seemed pretty damn festive—a far cry from the kind of misery he’d been witness to in the empire.

It was…really like another world.

As they passed the last of the houses, a group of children stopped to marvel at them. The girls shyly offered them flowers while the boys kept begging Taiga for a souvenir until he relented and handed over a few iron bullets.

The expressions they wore, all bright-eyed and wide smiles, Taiga couldn’t even remember the last time he’d seen a kid like that. The warmth it filled him with was almost surprising.

“Wonder what those robes are for?” he mumbled as the children waved and ran off. Each of the kids had been dressed in a small black kimono, with rainbow patterns that streamed down the sleeves and hem. Nothing as lavish as the outfits he’s seen in Teikou City, but it was a neat design, well-fit and clearly made by a skillful hand.

Tatsuya shrugged, “Who knows. Maybe a ceremony or something.”

“Ceremony?”

“Life’s about more than where the next meal’s at, Taiga.” He paused, thoughtful. “Or at least it is here.”

There was a quiet beat. Taiga turned back to the road.  
The tailor store was directly ahead and the sharp blue and white flag of Kaijo was fluttering lightly on its post out front. A tall man was walking towards the entrance, whistling.

“Hey, I think he works there,” Taiga said, noticing the measuring tape over his neck. This was confirmed as the store’s door suddenly burst open and three other guys came stumbling out. The man took a step back, startled, and a lot of wild gesturing then ensued.

Taiga stared. “Uh…”

“They sure look excited,” Tatsuya said, brow raising. He walked forwards anyway, intent on interjecting before they got too wrapped up in whatever they were freaking out over.

“…are you guys idiots?!” the shortest and angriest-looking guy was shouting, “Who the hell would believe that stor—mff!“

Taiga blinked as the man with the measuring tape suddenly slapped a hand over his mouth, making the other two men’s jaws drop. He had spotted them, his eyes having gone kind of…really wide. Taiga hadn’t noticed how _bushy_ his eyebrows were.

Tatsuya, only a little taken aback, cleared his throat. “Excuse me, would someone be able to help us?”

There was no response.

The man kept staring. The guy he was holding smacked his arm hard, shoving him away. He gasped a few times, muttering swears, before actually looking up.

And then they were all staring.

“Uh, Tatsuya?” Taiga inched up next to his brother, “Maybe we should—“

“KYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!”

In hindsight, Taiga wondered if maybe he _should_ be jealous of Tatsuya’s popularity with girls after all. It certainly made him more implacable to the random blood-curdling screams they seemed to keep summoning.

As it was, Taiga and all three of the other guys nearly fell over.

“Hayakawa!” one of them said, “What’s wrong with you?”

He grabbed his arm, but “Hayakawa” was inconsolable.

“I-I-I-It—It—It’s—the M-M-Mad T-Ti-Ti—“

Taiga threw his hands in the air. “Can people stop calling me that?! Where’d it even come from?”

The door banged open.

“Kagamicchi!”

There was a blur of yellow.

And all of a sudden, Kise was pouncing on him.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------  
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“Mou, Kagamicchi, how could you forget I worked here!” Kise wailed as they sat on the steps.

“Not half as bad as what you forgot, brat!” Kasamatsu snapped, jabbing him in the side, “You think meeting the Mirage Shooter and Mad Tiger was something you’d plan on telling us anytime soon? Hayakawa’s not gonna shut up for the rest of the week!”

“Ow, Senpai! That’s the second time you hit me there!”

“…Please stop calling me that, sir.”

Tatsuya chuckled, walking over after helping Moriyama and Kobori drag Hayakawa (who had fainted) inside the store. “Taiga’s pretty forgetful, Kise-kun,” he said, “It’s nothing personal with him.”

Shrugging off the sack he had had over his arm, he turned to Kasamatsu.

“We were wondering if you’d be able patch up some of our stuff. We had a bit of a rough time in the mountain.”

“’Rough’ isn’t the word I usually hear,” Kasamatsu snorted, accepting the bag, “I can’t deny you guys are good, but only people with a death wish climb Kiseki Mountain.”

A voice drifted out from the open doorway. “Seems like that sums them up pretty well.”

Blinking, they all turned around, just in time to see Aomine stroll out with his hands stuffed in his pockets. Taiga’s eyes widened, but Aomine barely even glanced at him.

“I’m out of here, Kise,” he said, brisk, “Not that this hasn’t been a grand old time or anything, but I’ve got my own shit to do.”

“Ah! Aominecchi, wait--!”

Before Kise could rise however, Taiga shot to his feet, blurting, “Hold on!”

Immediately, he felt Kasamatsu and Kise’s surprised glances on him, and the heat of Tatsuya’s warning gaze drilling into his head.

Aomine didn’t move or turn around right away. It was only after a beat, in which Taiga thought he was going to be ignored, that he looked over his shoulder, eyes cold and just as hostile as the night before.

“What?”

“I wanted to apologize for last night,” Taiga said, getting right to the point, “And to thank you…for saving me and my teammates. They told me what happened and Kuroko—“

“—is the guy you should save it for,” Aomine interrupted, curt, and turning away, “I only did it ‘cause Tetsu asked me to.”

With that, he began walking off again. Kise’s eyes widened and he stood abruptly as well.

“Wait, Aominecchi!” he said, sending Taiga and Tatsuya apologetic looks, before chasing after him—leaving an awkward silence in his wake.

“That went well,” Taiga sighed, sitting back down next to his brother, “Why the hell does that guy hate me? We only met like a day and a half ago.”

Tatsuya patted his shoulder. “Some people are just incompatible I guess.”

Taiga twitched. “Thanks, Tatsuya.”

“Aomine’s always been a rude little shit,” Kasamatsu said, tying up the bag, “You’ve seen Kise, haven’t you? And the two oversized brats up the hill? Bunch of crazies, all of them.”

At this, Tatsuya turned to him, an interested glint in his visible eye. “Yes, we met Atsushi,” he replied, being unnecessarily specific, “I was wondering why they all seemed to have a room there actually. Are they related?”

Kasamatsu snorted again. “About as much as you and me,” he said, before a more bemused look crossed his features, “To be honest, I’m not sure what the deal is with those guys. Aside from looking like a rainbow forest, all I know is that they were the first.”

Taiga’s eyebrow rose.

“The first?”

“Of Kiseki. Along with Akashi and Kuroko.”

They stared at him.

“What? How long has this town been here?” Tatsuya asked, incredulous, “Atsushi looked about the same age as Taiga.”

“Not sure. We’ve only been here for about three years ourselves,” Kasamatsu said, a faraway gleam in his eye, “Maybe someone else in town knows, but I never went out of my way to ask.”

Taiga just barely resisted the urge to question why. Between the sentinels and the mountain itself, the thought that anyone had gotten all the way up and over, without help or even direction and then somehow established a whole freaking town...it wasn’t possible. Not humanly anyway.

It was something he himself would have _definitely_ gone out of his way to ask.

_We’ve been here so long, Kagami-kun…_

“It was their eyes.”

Taiga blinked, pulled back from his thoughts. Kasamatsu was regarding him, his expression knowing.

“Why I didn't ask. You're wondering aren't you? I’m guessing you think we’re all out of touch here. That it’s sunshine every day and none of us remember the world beyond anymore,” he said, but without anger and in a voice that steadily softened.

“The Teikou invaded Kaijou first, you know. I was seventeen when I saw the sentinels come, all in a black swarm from far away." There was a slight thickness in his words. Neither Taiga nor Tatsuya spoke.

“You can glimpse it in people’s eyes,” he said, “The types of Hell they’ve seen, and these days, everyone’s seen something. Even here.”

Kasamatsu leaned back against the step, gaze turned towards the pinking sky. 

“But those brats, what you see in them sometimes...it's just...Kise never talks about the past, but there’s something terrible there. Something I probably don’t want to know about anyway. So I figured as far as I cared, it didn’t matter and that all I wanted from him was a decent fucking knot for once and nothing more.”

He finished and silence languished between them, full and heavy, until Tatsuya gently ventured, “…Was it your family, Kasamatsu-san?”

Kasamatsu sighed.

“Two kid brothers and my parents,” he said, “It was one of those strong ones. The unit you guys call V59. It knocked over a tree that landed on our hut. Everything inside just…crushed flat.”

Tatsuya’s eyes widened while Taiga’s fists clenched. Pity and horror rose up and down his stomach in waves.

“I am sorry,” his brother whispered, meaning it.

Kasamatsu closed his eyes. When he opened them again, they were dark with memories.

“You know, the worst fucking part was I don’t think it even meant to,” he said, “Like it was just moving through and they'd simply been in the way.”

He chuckled, a hollow sound.

“Just…too big and too powerful and not under anyone's damn control. Not yours, God's or even it's own.”

\-----------------------------------------------------------------  
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“Nee, Sacchin, why are you mad?”

A large hand reached past her, wrapping around the bottom frame of the car. Satsuki cringed as the metal crumpled on contact, a sound akin to nails on chalkboard.

“I already told you, Mukkun,” she said, frowning, “Poor Watabe-san was on his knees and Akashi-kun was still going to turn him away. How could you just stand there?”

Two drowsy violet eyes peered down at her, as if she had said something very curious.

“Because Aka-chin was right,” he said, voice flat with unquestionable certainty, “He’s always right.”

Then with one hand, he lifted the 800-kilo car into the air like it was nothing but a serving platter. For all Satsuki knew, that was probably what it was to Mukkun.

“That’s not the point,” she said, almost running to keep pace with his gigantic strides as he walked back towards the meadow, “Those were his people, Mukkun. He was so desperate and sad and was basically being told he’d have to leave them there to die. Didn’t you feel sorry for him at all?”

“Not this again, Momoi,” Midorin said, having been waiting for them at the center, “He was told what would happen if he entered Kiseki. There’s nothing complicated about it.”

“See?” Mukkun set the car down, “Mido-chin agrees.”

Satsuki gave them both a hard, stern look. “It was _cruel_ ,” she said, as if by stressing the word she could get the meaning through to them, “We may not have a lot of room left, but we could’ve made it work. Denying him just because of a rule is—"

“—practical,” Midorin finished, taking off his glasses.

“Saying yes to one person, means saying yes to them all,” he continued as his glowing eyes scanned over the car, searching for iron within the skeleton, “More and more people would start disappearing into the mountain and it would only be a matter of time before the Teikou took notice.”

“But it’s not as if that would have been very risky,” Satsuki pressed, “With Tetsu-kun here, they wouldn’t have found the town anyway. Besides, I’m not talking about practicality.”

The looks she received were blank.

“What are you talking about then, Sacchin?” Mukkun asked, and there wasn’t a hint of mockery in either of their expressions. Not mockery or comprehension or anything. Satsuki felt her heart sinking like a stone.

It must’ve shown on her face, because Midorin’s eyes widened and he quickly added, “In any case, Akashi agreed to let Kuroko hear about the situation. Things could still change.”

Mukkun rested his hand on her head, patting her very lightly.

“Sacchin should relax and not be mad at us anymore. Or sad,” his face scrunched a bit, his eyes half-lidded and child-like, “You’ve already spent years being sad.”

There was no denying the note of genuine concern in their voices, no matter how misdirected, and Satsuki could not help softening. Trust Mukkun and Midorin to horrify her with their apathy one second and renew her faith in the next.

“Only because you guys keep making me worry,” she admonished, but surrendered a small smile.

Her eyes widened a second later. Looking back, she didn’t know how she managed to spot them then. With the sky darkening and their metallic sheen blending into the shadows, rendering them almost invisible. Satsuki’s eyes weren’t even particularly good and she wasn’t Midorin in any sense of the term.

Yet she saw them first.

Out at the edges of the clearing, near the foliage leading into the mountain, without a single movement or sound…

“Mukkun…” she whispered, “Behind you…”

There was a blink and then a lazy glance over the shoulder. A chill skittered across the back of Satsuki’s arms when he suddenly turned around fully, planting himself in front of her. So she really wasn’t imagining it.

About four hundred meters away, like faceless wraiths in the evening, the sentinels stood in the shade of the trees.

“Mido-chin,” Mukkun said, calm, but in a noticeably quieter voice, “Are those suppose to be here?”

Midorin walked up next to him, staring at the distant figures as well. “You wouldn’t be asking if they were,” he replied, just as calmly.

Satsuki couldn’t move, unable to understand how this was possible. Tetsu-kun’s power extended up and through the grove. It was suppose to be a safe zone.

“Can they see us?” she asked, peeking through the gap between Midorin and Mukkun’s arms.

Instead of replying, Midorin narrowed his eyes. She watched his gaze survey the clearing.

“Two up front,” he said, “Thor’s Hammer and a Formless One.”

“V and B units?”

Midorin stared at her, but after a moment nodded. Mukkun’s brow furrowed.

“Mine-chin is annoying. Why are his models everywhere?”

“I think you need to ask yourself that question,” Midorin scolded, though he seemed just as annoyed, “There’s three more scattered in the trees at left and right.”

“Eh?” Satsuki whipped towards the forest top, seeing nothing but the black outline of leaves and branches.

“Yours, Mido-chin?”

“Yes,” the edge of Midorin’s jaw tightened, “If they’re congregating like this…it’s plausible they may see us after all.”

Ice coursed through Satsuki’s veins, racing across her entire body and making the hairs rise on her nape. In front of her, Mukkun was expressionless.

“What should we do?”

Midorin rolled up his sleeve, folding it at the elbow. A streak of green ran down the breadth of his arm, glowing. “I’ll pick off the ones in the trees,” he said, eyes still on the sentinels, “You can take the two at center. They will probably charge at you anyway.”

Mukkun sighed and rolled his shoulder. She could hear the joints popping.

“Hmm, okay.”

Then without warning, he grabbed the car by its hood. Metal depressed with a squeal beneath his fingertips and before Satsuki could register what was happening, the dark shape of the car was already hurtling into the air and across the clearing.

She didn’t think the sentinels even reacted before it had smashed into them like a freight train, ramming them straight into one of the trees, making it snap with a sharp ‘crack’ and fall over as well. Metal bits and crushed glass went flying into the air and she could see a cloud of black smoke vomit out of the twisted hood.

One sentinel’s body had been sliced in half, its limbs twitching. Viscous slime dripped out of its cavity.

Simultaneously, there were several hard ‘thuds’ on their left and right. When Satsuki spun around, she saw three sentinels tumbling from the trees, splaying out on the grass like string-less puppets. Sizzling holes the size of golf balls riddled their faces.

It had all been over in seconds.

Midorin came sliding down the trunk of one the trees, landing with cat-like grace despite his size. She wasn’t even sure when he had disappeared.

He took a step their way, before something flickered in his eyes.

“Murasakibara!” he yelled and Satsuki blinked, turning just in time to see the V unit scrabble over the wreckage of the car. Its spindly fingers dug into the ground, the hard earth giving way and Satsuki didn’t know how Mukkun reacted because the sentinel screeched then, and she had forgotten the _sounds_ it could make…

Then a huge boulder was sailing at her face.

Satsuki blinked again, which was all she had time for before a large hand was curled around her shoulders. With a rough and abrupt sweep, it slammed her into a wall-like chest, staying at her back to steady her.

“Keep still,” Mukkun drawled from somewhere above and on impulse, Satsuki grabbed fistfuls of his shirt, gaze lifting up.

He was practically crouched over her, with one arm loosely in the air to shield his own head.

That was about the extent of her observations before the boulder came smashing into said arm and promptly exploding into a million pieces.

Satsuki cried out at the thunderous crack that nearly rattled her bones and quickly buried her face back into Mukkun’s chest. She could feel the heat across her skin as several fragments streaked by and clenched her eyes shut to protect them. Showers of tumbling gravel landed in the surrounding grass like pop rocks.

In the chaos, she thought she heard something zoom through the air and the sentinel screech one final time. When the noise settled at last and her ears stopped ringing, Midorin was already walking up to them, tugging down his sleeve.

“There’s more of them,” Midorin said, narrowed eyes toward the south end of the grove, which led up the slope and deeper into the mountain.

Mukkun shifted, releasing her carefully. The arm that had taken the brunt of the attack had white smoke curling around it and the sleeve had been torn to ribbons, revealing the pale white of unmarred skin beneath. He rose to full height and gazed down at her.

A breeze rolled by, bringing a noxious mix of gasoline, smoke and singed grass.

“Sacchin should get out of here.”

Satsuki nodded dumbly, backing away on stumbling legs.

“Yes, I-I’ll go get Dai-chan and Ki-chan!”

Without waiting for their reply, she turned heel and sprinted down the path--the pounding of her heart echoing in her ears as a flurry of string-less thoughts rushed through her mind.

This wasn’t possible. Had something happened to Tetsu-kun? How could the sentinels find Kiseki? How was this happening?

How was this happening?

“We’re doing a perimeter check,” she could hear Midorin say, “Let’s go.”

Mukkun grunted, “What a pain.”

There was a rustle, like feet sliding through grass and Satsuki knew that if she turned around now they would already be gone.


	9. The Zone Ceremony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is much chaos in the mountain and Rakuzan plays storyteller.

_One time, they came to a village in Tou during the harvest season. With the ruined fields from the wars and the capital taking the majority of what did manage to grow, there was less harvesting happening than outright brawls over food._

_It was the only place they’d been where Akashi had let them put their hoods down. No one would have noticed anyway._

_At the edge of the road were three men fighting over a skeletal old cow. Their eyes were sunken down into their leathery faces, he remembered that, and they were grappling for the cow by her horns as she groaned and tried to stumble away._

_After a moment, the men paused, staring at each other. The desperation in their faces swelled into something wild._

_The largest of them yanked the cow forward, driving a foot into the middle one’s stomach and making him gasp. The smallest darted to the other side. His hand moved and suddenly there was a hatchet in it, rusted and warped._

_With a clumsy strike, he cut off the cow’s left ear._

_Blood gushed out in a spray, spattering the dirt in an arc. The artery must have been severed, he’d thought blankly, while the cow bucked and screamed, and the man snatched up the ear and scrambled away. As he passed the rump, he reached out and clipped the tail off. More blood._

_The two other man roared as the cow fell to one knee in pain. The largest man raised a fist, striking his companion hard enough that he stumbled and fell over. His head must have hit something as he did, because there was a dull ‘crack’ and then he did not move again._

_The large man wiped his nose, turning to the bellowing cow as he unbuckled the axe at his belt. It was not a clean or swift death. The cow fell to its side, moaning, its entire flank darkened and wet. The man grabbed for the bony limbs._

_Murasakibara had been transfixed, his eyes following the rivulets of blood, the heaving movement of the beast’s side as it gasped. After he began to drool, Akashi shot a look at Midorima and Kise, who steered him away with white-knuckled hands._

_“We’re leaving, Daiki,” Akashi had said, gaze skimming over the scene, “There’s nothing here.”_

__Nothing, _it echoed in his head, faintly._

_A few feet next to him, Tetsu was rooted to the spot, face white with horror. The blood oozed towards his feet, bright and moist against the cracked earth. In that familiar and yet irrational way, Daiki had the sudden urge to reach out and shield him from the sight._

_In the end, he didn’t move._

_Tetsu had seen far worse after all._

_And Daiki couldn’t have protected anyone anyway._

\--- 

When he found Tetsu in the glade that night, the stench could already be detected a mile off. 

A caustic, burning smell worse than the one coming from his damn arm. It reeked of melted copper, steel and wiring, underlined by wet earth and charred grass. Whatever was left of the sentinel had been thrown all over the place—a leg here, a torso there. The head, reduced to nothing but a lump of metal, sat in a jagged hole a few feet away from the path.

Around the perimeter, blackened streaks slashed across the tree trunks in a ring, a blunt message on the pattern of damage.

Tetsu was kneeled down in the center. Kagami Taiga’s head rested in his lap. 

There was a lot of blood. On the grass and the dirt and Tetsu’s hands as he held them tight over Kagami’s shoulder. The look he shot Daiki said only two things: ‘help me’ and ‘do not ask.’ Even though it was clearly one of those situations where some asking was in fucking order.

Yet because…because it was Tetsu, or maybe because a little twinge in him said the guy in his lap ( _in Tetsu’s lap_ ) was going to bleed out if he didn’t save the questions for now, he ended up just nodding. 

Later, when Midorima finally gave him the third degree, Tetsu explained that the sentinel had already been destroyed by the time he’d run across Kagami and that he had no idea what had happened. It was enough to placate the others, though Daiki felt a tiny grain of suspicion lodge inside his head, growing bigger each time he turned it over.

He kept telling himself Tetsu wouldn’t lie. Not over something as serious as the Teikou and definitely not to protect some loud, self-righteous asshole. Tetsu had always given too much of a damn…

“Aominecchi, you sure you’re not just jealous?” 

Daiki halted in his tracks, spinning around with a glare at Kise, who was already holding his hands up in peace. He didn’t know why the idiot had followed him, especially with Seirin and his precious ‘Kasamatsucchi’ in the opposite direction. 

“Shut up,” he growled, “I’m telling you, there’s something weird about that guy.”

“Alright, alright, I’m just trying to say you shouldn’t keep being so nasty towards them. Why don’t you tell Akashicchi if it’s bothering you so much?”

Daiki snorted. “Like hell. He’s already paranoid enough.” 

“But it has to do with Teikou.”

“Exactly. I don’t need him digging around in my head.” 

A disapproving frown tugged at Kise’s mouth. “You know he wouldn’t. He promised.”

Though it did not sound like a particularly solid reason, Aomine scowled, having no retort. It was true that Akashi did not take promises lightly. This was something they knew too well. 

“Fine, he probably won’t. But that means it’ll be even worse,” he said instead, “The town could get sealed off and he might even start kicking people out.”

There was a long pause, one in which Kise stared at him oddly for several seconds before speaking again. 

“I didn’t know you cared about that, Aominecchi.”

Confusion swirled in the amber depths of his eyes. There was nothing malicious about them and yet for reasons he could not quite understand, a strange chill spread down Daiki’s spine and he found himself having to turn away.

“I just don’t need Tetsu all pissed at me about it that’s all,” he muttered, stuffing his hands into his pockets, “It’s not worth it.”

“Oh,” Kise was quiet for a beat, “I guess that makes sense.”

Daiki said nothing more. They continued walking, going past the square where they saw various people carrying packages and food from the market. It was more bustling than usual and the word ‘Seirin’ hovered over the streams like a perpetual haze. Giggling kids were running all over the place, their black kimonos weaving in and out of the crowd. 

“I was born on one of the days of the Zone you know,” one boy was bragging, chest puffed out, “If you think about it, the whole town’s celebrating my birthday this week.”

A little girl giggled. “Yeah right, only if you were born twenty-one years ago.”

“Nuh-uh! My dad said the thing twenty-one years ago was rare and no one really knows when the Zone comes. For all you guys know, I could have superpowers! I could be a Miracle!”

Instinctually, Daiki stiffened and out of the corner of his eye, he saw Kise do the same. 

The Zone festival was always a weird time of year for all of them and personally, Daiki liked to keep himself as scarce as he could. Given the world at current, the celebration made little sense to him and he understood why the townsfolk carried it out about as much as why Akashi kept allowing them to. Which was not at all. 

“You’d never have been chosen anyway!” another kid added, “Besides, it’s just a story, dummy.”

Without exchanging a word or even looks, they both increased their pace. 

They walked quickly enough that soon Daiki noticed the familiar flags of the Tou and Yousen Market coming into view. The once overflowing mounds of food just this morning were almost entirely gone now and a familiar mousy brunette was sweeping up front.

“Yo, Ryo,” Daiki called, not loudly or suddenly by any means, though the shrimp nearly tripped over himself anyway.

“A-Aomine-san!” he squeaked, “K-Kise-san!”

“What’s up, Sakuracchi?” Kise said, whistling at the sight of the empty bins, “Sold out again, huh? Business is always booming with you guys.”

Ryo gave a nervous, high-pitched laugh.

“E-Eh? N-Not at all, I-I m-mean with tonight’s c-ceremony the t-tailor s-store m-must have been crowded t-too,” his eyes suddenly widened in horror, “though I’m not implying you’re a l-liar or a-anything! I-I’m sorry if it came out that way, I-I—“

“Relax,” Daiki cut in before Ryo could get really worked up, “You can call Kise whatever you want. He’s pretty much use to it.”

“Stop telling people that, Aominecchi!”

Flapping an unconcerned hand at him, Daiki strolled up to the storefront, gaze darting around for a few seconds, before his brows rose in surprise.

“Ryo, where’s Satsuki?” Having practically memorized her schedule, he knew she should have been at work right now….

“O-Oh, I’m not sure actually. S-She said she was going on break after K-Kuroko-san arrived and—“

“—Oii, Sakurai, who ya talkin’ to?” 

The door slid open, revealing Imayoshi’s grinning face, which only seemed to stretch once his gaze landed on Daiki. 

“Oya, Aomine, what a surprise,” he said, not looking very surprised at all.

Daiki sighed inwardly and met his gaze.

“Imayoshi-san.”

“What do we owe this pleasure? If ya come to barter for rice again, I’ve got just the thing ya can get for me.”

“It better not be fingernails or hair from Seirin,” Daiki said, expression flat, “I’ve had enough of those guys for one day.”

“Heh, but what _matters_ is no one else has,” Imayoshi drawled, “This is why we always part unsatisfied, Aomine. You’re terrible at business.”

Daiki scoffed.

“And you’re just terrible in general, so forget it. Is Satsuki here or not? I was gonna ask her something.”

“A-Ah, is it about this, Aomine-san?” Ryo said suddenly, sliding a hand into his apron pocket, before producing a small, slightly crumpled white package. For the first time, Daiki’s eyes lit up.

“Yeah, my smokes, thanks,” he said, snatching up the carton, before glancing at Imayoshi, “Just list the payment down for Murasakibara. He’ll bake an extra dozen cakes for you guys.” 

“Sounds like a plan,” Imayoshi replied, still smiling, “His products always rack in the customers. If the world wasn’t rotting at the seams, I’d say he could start his own chain of bakeries.”

It was with some conscious restraint that Daiki didn’t laugh right there. Picturing Murasakibara doing anything without Akashi’s express order was basically impossible. He kind of doubted the guy even knew how.

“Does Murasakibaracchi know you’re signing him up to buy you cigarettes?” Kise asked, a skeptical brow arched, “You’re going to piss him off.”

Daiki rolled his eyes. “It’s fine,” he said, flipping the lid to make sure the sticks hadn’t gotten wet, “He keeps mooching, so it’s only fair.”

Kise didn’t look convinced. “Momocchi is going to be angry too,” he warned, “She doesn’t like it when you smoke.”

That was putting it mildly and Daiki couldn’t help wincing, feeling far more dread at the thought. God, the struggles he had to go through just to wheedle one carton from her. Why she was set on getting him to quit when he could never get sick from it anyway was a mystery beyond him. 

“Hm, what she doesn’t know—“

“DAI-CHAN!”

With hands that moved so fast they almost blurred, Daiki shoved the cigarettes into his pocket, spinning around. He caught a flash of pink and Kise sputtering, ‘Momocchi?!’ before a petite form barreled into them.

“Whoa!” Daiki gasped, actually stumbling back a step to keep them from falling over, “What the hell?”

Behind them, Ryo and Imayoshi stared in surprise.

“M-Momoi-san!”

“Skippin’ work and comin’ back, eh? She’s got nerve.” 

Satsuki ignored them all, her head whipping up as she grabbed both him and Kise by the hands.

“Dai-chan, Ki-chan, you have to help!” she cried, giving an ineffectual, but urgent tug, “Come on!”

Kise sent a bewildered glance at him, which Daiki would’ve returned if he weren’t busy scanning Satsuki for any signs of what could be wrong. Aside from the wide, frantic alarm in her eyes, she was also panting hard and when he looked again, he noticed that her forehead was smudged with dust while small rips lined the edges of her sleeves.

Daiki grabbed her by the arms. “Hold on,” he said, pulling her over for a closer look, “ _Wait._ What happened? Are you hurt?”

Satsuki shook her head, impatient. “No, no, I’m fine. It’s not me, it’s…” She bit her lip and Daiki caught her subtle, hesitant glance at Ryo and Imayoshi.

“…Midorin saw a few things over the hill,” she said in the end, with such strange gravity that it formed a cold ball in Daiki’s gut. 

Kise still looked lost, though similarly unnerved. “Midorimacchi did? What things?”

“No, that’s not what I mean,” Satsuki amended, hesitating for another beat, before deciding to throw caution to the wind and hissed, “Them. He saw them.”

The ball in Daiki shattered, sending icy comprehension washing down and over him. Beside him, Kise’s eyes grew huge with disbelief while a feet or so away, Ryo took a timid step forward. 

“U-Um, h-has something happened?” 

No one heard him.

“You sure?” Daiki breathed, “It could’ve been shadows or the trees…”

Satsuki just looked at him. “It’s Midorin.”

Yeah, he figured. _Shit…_

Without another word, Daiki sprinted past Satsuki and towards the town gates, having to remind himself not to go full speed. 

_People here._ His head pounded. _Not yet. Not yet. Not yet._

Kise dogged at his heels. “I thought Kurokocchi covered the glade,” he hissed.

Daiki’s fists clenched. 

“Guess not.” 

\--- 

Midorima landed back on the ground as five sentinels collapsed in a smoldering pile before him. His brow furrowed when another ten simply trailed out of the forest and took their places. 

While the encounters had been relatively scarce during the first thirty kilometers, more and more sentinels had begun attacking them as they progressed deeper into the mountain. They seemed to seep from every available shadow and crevice, and the number he’d gathered in his initial observations had been exceeded fairly quickly.

As if reading his mind, Murasakibara turned, giving him a faint, accusatory look as he ripped a giant tree from the ground. 

“This seems like a lot more than just fifty, Mido-chin,” he said, and swung down at the sentinels like a paper fan over cockroaches. For a split second, screeches and static filled the air before being silenced by the deafening crash.

A great gust of wind erupted around them and Midorima cringed, shielding his face.

“There were only fifty as far as I could see,” he snapped, after it had calmed, “How was I to know there were this many waiting beyond?”

In truth, it was almost too coincidental. As he grew, the scope of his vision had gradually progressed as well and by this point he could pretty much see the entire windward side of the mountain. The fact that the majority of the sentinels seemed to be materializing just beyond this mark…it left a strange and unpleasant feeling in his bones.

“Ehh?” Murasakibara punched another sentinel, its head sailing into the distance, “But I thought you could see everything.”

Rolling his eyes at this clueless assumption, Midorima looked toward the end of the grove, the glow from his arm casting a monstrous shadow of Murasakibara’s profile.

“They’re moving oddly,” he said, “I’ve never known them to attack in waves before. It’s almost strategic.” 

Murasakibara shrugged, having not noticed a thing.

“Really? I feel like it’s the same as alwa—“

_SKREEE_

They both paused, heads whipping to the left and back the way they had come. The stream running into the glade was there, the water having carved into the rock to form a cradle for the rushing torrents. 

Four sentinels stood at the edge of the opposite end, their lidless eyes thick and black, as they trained on them. Like all the others they’d encountered, Midorima could see the quivering in their limbs, the subtle transition into acquisition mode. The codes on their arms read Y87.

Kise’s Perfect Copies.

“Aw man, I hate those things,” Murasakibara muttered, gazing at both the sentinels and the water with distaste.

A small pang of concern hit Midorima as he considered the situation. It was simple fact that they would try to subdue Murasakibara first and the stream, while only ankle deep, would definitely retard movement. Normally, Midorima would not have batted an eyelash at this, but given that everything so far had been rather _un-normal_ , he was moved to ask. 

“Will you be okay?” 

Murasakibara nodded, curls of air beginning to spin across his knuckles. “Yeah, it’s annoying but all they do is run at me with Thor’s Hammer.”

The words had barely landed before a violet glow outlined the two sentinels. Their stances widened, the ground cracking where their feet were planted. Midorima could feel the vibrations all the way from the other side of the stream. 

“Move, Mido-chin,” Murasakibara ordered suddenly, yanking him back before he could react. 

An instant later, one of the sentinels was flying at them—its metal fist out like a torpedo. 

_SKREEEEEEEEEEEEE_

Without even turning the full way, Murasakibara flung out his arm, and Midorima watched the sentinel’s entire limb more or less implode as it made contact. His wide hand snaked out, grabbing the sentinel by a leg before smashing the body unceremoniously against the rocks. 

There was a sharp crack and hiss, as black slime spurted out and into the water. Midorima did not have time for anything but a momentary second of disgust before the next sentinel came charging in right after, also glowing purple.

It jumped up, hand back…

Murasakibara took a more stable stance, the muscles in his arms taut. Slices of air flowed around them in a spiral and the heat of their motion was almost palpable.

…The sentinel glowed blue.

The world froze for a moment. Midorima stared, motionless, as Murasakibara’s eyes widened.

“Huh?”

Blades came sprouting out of the sentinel’s palm, slashing down in a blur of speed that gave no time to dodge or block. Murasakibara’s teeth clenched, pupils shrinking because while his skin could stand up to most things without problem, the blue edge of the swords told them that this would not be the case this time. That it was going to _hurt_ …

The sentinel fell apart. 

Literally. 

Midorima and Murasakibara blinked as stray parts and gear rained down on them. They had hardly registered any of it when a streak of dark blue shot past their shoulders, skimming right over the stream. Making several jagged turns, it zig-zagged around one of the two remaining sentinels, not seeming to have touched it at all if not for how the robot’s torso suddenly detached from its waist. The arms and legs came off the following second, sliced so quickly at the joints that Midorima could see they had slightly melted, before being concluded with an abrupt decapitation.

“Hurry up, Kise!” a voice snapped and the blue streak dragged along the grass, reforming back into Aomine, who spared no time looking at them but glared at the treetops instead.

“Coming!” a muffled voice yelled back, the branches rustling. 

A blur of yellow dived down from above, streaking by the last sentinel like Aomine and leaving it sawed neatly in half. As it fell over with a messy clatter, Kise rematerialized, shooting a dazzling grin over his shoulder at them.

“Fear not, citizens, the hero has arri—GAH!”

Kise scrambled to duck as a crabapple was chucked at him, leaving a sizeable crack in a nearby boulder. He shot back to his feet instantly, however, looking offended. 

“Ahh, Murasakibaracchi, you were really trying to hit me!”

Murasakibara lowered his hand, gaze dull. “I was aiming at that annoying shiny thing on top of your shoulders.”

 _“You mean my head?!_ ”

“…Hmm, guess so.”

“What!”

Marching across the stream in loud, angry splashes, Kise was immediately on Murasakibara, wailing about how mean he was. Midorima crossed his arms, eyebrow raised.

“So you actually did come.”

Aomine snorted, sauntering over as well, his soles drawing ripples across the water’s surface. “As if Satsuki was going to let us stay in town with how freaked out she was.”

His eyes narrowed as he walked past the remains of the sentinels, expression growing serious.

“The hell was that by the way?” he said, “Never seen a Perfect Copy that could actually switch moves before.” 

Midorima shook his head, possessing no answers. The Perfect Copy (or Y unit, as Takao incessantly called it) had access to all three attacks, but every one they had encountered in the past five years had simply mirrored their own power back at them. As careless as it sounded, Midorima had assumed the Y units simply did not contain the strategic know-how for switching attacks. At least not without specific orders.

“Akashi will want to hear about this,” he said, “And Kuroko’s Misdirection isn’t working anymore.”

“Yeah, Satsuki was implying something like that,” Aomine gave a frustrated sigh, looking completely confused, “Well, should we head back then? Or keep going the entire perimeter?” 

“Keep going. If there is something wrong with Kuroko, we’ll need to get rid of at least the ones on this side.”

Aomine nodded. “Whatever you say. There’s something I wanted to check out in the glade anyway.”

Before Midorima could ask what, he turned to yell over his shoulder. “Oi! Are you two coming?”

Kise and Murasakibara both looked up, the latter having placed the former in a lazy headlock.

“We are! Ack, okay, okay, I give, Murasakicchi!”

“Where are we going, Mine-chin?” 

Where indeed. Midorima saw Aomine raise his head, looking past the copse and towards the dark mountain peak in the distance. Unlike himself, who had never been made for sentiment, he could see the ream of memories unwinding in Aomine’s eyes. The rain against their backs; the squelch of mud beneath their feet as they groped for each other’s hands. Behind them, the yells of men, the clatter of guns and flickering of torches. Teikou’s flag waving like a skull in the night.

Aomine chuckled, the sound hollow. 

“Down the shittiest of lanes.”

\---

Taiga’s stomach growled for the third time in ten minutes. “Ugh, I’m starving,” he muttered, hunching over to cradle his middle.

Next to him, Captain Hyuuga snorted, “We’ve noticed. Just sit tight. At least you got a decent meal the night before. We had to settle for whatever Izuki could come up with.”

“You asked for seconds, Hyuuga,” Izuki said, completely serene, “And it wasn’t that bad. We had those cookies, remember?” 

Kiyoshi let out a hearty laugh, leaning back against the wall. He was propped up in a corner, giving his leg more room to stretch out. “Man, those were great.”

Hyuuga twitched and when he proceeded to yell at them again, Tatsuya patted Taiga’s shoulder. 

“It shouldn’t be another half hour or so,” he said, “You want a maiubo until then?”

He pulled out the wrapped treat from his pocket, which Taiga tried hard not to wrinkle his nose at. Maiubo sticks were one of the few snacks still in circulation after the empire took over and sometimes the only thing Seirin ate for days on end. They were far too sugary for Taiga’s palate, but for whatever reason, Tatsuya seemed to carry them around like spare change. 

“…No thanks, I’ll wait,” he said, sighing as he watched men and women rush about in front of them, preparing streamers and banners and overflowing baskets of fruit. They had offered to help at least carry a few things several times already and had been rebuffed every time with great insistence. It left Taiga fidgeting and awkward as they sat in front of an ornate table, surrounded by plump cushions and flowers. 

With nothing to do, he tried to trace back the events that had led to this particular moment—an act he was engaging himself in more and more lately. 

After departing from the tailor store, he had been in a rather solemn mood, Kasamatsu’s words echoing in his head. It hadn’t occurred to him, he realized, that most of Kiseki’s residents came from the five kingdoms or that the town itself could’ve only been established a few years ago. No matter what Taiga’s reasoning, he could not figure out how six boys (only around sixteen like himself at the time) could have even made it all the way through the mountain, let alone set up their own town. 

Both Tatsuya and the captain had told him not to think too hard about it, that amazing things have happened before and to just be grateful that it did. Izuki and Kiyoshi on the other hand, rationalized that there could’ve been adults present at the time or at least other people, and maybe they had all died before newer residents like Kasamatsu had moved in. 

Taiga disagreed. Call it a gut feeling, but he was almost a thousand percent certain there had been no one else. That the mountain was as wild and empty as the darkness when Kuroko and the others had stepped foot into it.

He had no clue why, but this he knew. It came from some weird, deep place in his bones.

The feeling had actually ate at him for hours and he had just resolved to head to the shop and ask Kuroko about it directly when the townsfolk had knocked on their door. 

Taiga sighed, propping himself up with his fist as he watched another group of men hurry by with firewood. They too, were garbed in the black kimonos he’d seen on the kids earlier in the evening.

“Can’t believe you were right about the ceremony,” he said, nudging his brother, “I don’t think I’ve even heard of the Zone before.” 

“What?” Simultaneously, Hyuuga and Izuki whipped toward him while Kiyoshi sent him a surprised look. 

“You’re joking right?” the captain said, “How’d you get through school without learning about the Zone?”

Taiga cocked an eyebrow, though Tatsuya replied before he could.

“Alex thought it was better to home-school us, Captain. And she didn’t have time for much beyond the basics.”

Despite himself, Taiga flinched at the name while a startled and then apologetic light dawned in Hyuuga’s eyes.

“…I see.”

Before it could become awkward however, Kiyoshi spoke up, “Well, you’ll get to find out soon enough. It’s a pretty incredible legend to be honest.”

Much to their misfortune however, another thirty minutes passed before the preparations were deemed complete. Taiga was so starved by this point that he caved and took a maiubo, needing to eat it discreetly while people wandered into the square. It was a decent crowd and Taiga was surprised by how many faces he recognized. 

There was Takao, who grinned and waved when their eyes met, standing next to an irritated-looking blonde and two other imposing men—all of whom were wearing the Shutoku lab coats, much to Taiga’s anxiety. 

Both the Tou and Yousen employees were here too, having situated themselves in the back thanks to the latter’s heights. Next to them were the Kaijo workers and Taiga could see Kasamatsu and Moriyama chatting amiably with Fukui and Susa. Momoi sat between Imayoshi and Sakurai, saying something with a weak smile at the latter, who looked worried.

Neither Aomine nor Kise were there and he didn’t have to look around the square again to notice that Midorima and Murasakibara weren’t around either. A part of him searched for Kuroko too, but given how he seemed to pop in and out of nowhere on will alone, he doubted he could’ve spotted him even if he were present. 

As his observations continued, two burly men set up a large pile of firewood at the center of the square, only a few meters away from their table. It sparked to life with the graze of a torch, creating a brilliant flame.

Waves of ‘ooo’s and ‘ahhh’s’ spread across the crowd before a round of applause broke out as three men came out of the surrounding huts. The leading figure was dressed in flowing ceremonial robes along with an elaborate, multi-colored headpiece. 

When they approached, both Hyuuga and Izuki stood up, gesturing for Tatsuya and Taiga to do the same.

“The infamous Seirin,” the leader said, voice smooth and amiable, “Thank you for coming to our little festivities. I’m Mibuchi Reo of Rakuzan Metalworks and also the assistant headman. Sei-cha—oh, I mean Akashi Seijuuro, will not be able to make it this evening. I hope you’ll be able to accept our company in his place.”

Taiga blinked. 

“Of course,” Hyuuga said, shaking hands with him, “It’s an honor either way. Thanks for having us.”

A soft smile graced Mibuchi’s lips and he turned, introducing the men behind him as Nebuya Eikichi and Hayama Kotarou. They were both sturdy, cheerful-looking people who worked the town forge and seem to know far more about weaponry than any ordinary blacksmiths should. 

“So do you use both semi-autos and revolvers?” Hayama said, an excited grin on, “Are the magazines made from iron too? I always felt the casings were easier to make on a semi-auto, but the Smith and Wessons must cause a lot more damage, right?”

Taiga backed up a step, having never really given a thought to guns beyond 'does it work' and ‘will it kill the homicidal robot.’ 

“Uh, I don’t—“

“Or are sniper rifles more efficient? I mean if you want to catch that fast unit off guard, wouldn’t sniper shots be the way to go? The fast type is the Y unit right? Or is it B? I think there’s actually two faster models right? Yeah, I think the faster ones are Y and B. Sorry, I always get them mixed up, how can you guys even tell them apart?” 

Before Taiga could even try to form a reply, Mibuchi’s leg suddenly shot out, delivering a hard side-kick into Hayama’s shin.

“Sorry about him,” he said, still smiling pleasantly as Hayama yelped, “Kotarou’s a bit hyperactive. Sometimes the only way to stop him is a well-placed smack or two.”

“I understand,” Hyuuga said, forgetting to include the rest of them, a look of deep empathy in his eyes.

\---

After the introductions were finished and Mibuchi had greeted the crowd, bowls of stew, meat and fruit were passed out for everyone, much to Taiga’s relief. While the cooking wasn’t as good as Murasakibara’s, his stomach was far from picky and it sang in praise as he filled it up.

It seemed to have a good effect on everyone in fact and the square soon came alive with conversation. Hyuuga and Mibuchi hit it off immediately, while Tatsuya, Izuki and Kiyoshi joked around with Nebuya and Hayama. 

Taiga looked one last time for Kuroko and didn’t find him.

Another hour passed before Mibuchi nodded at one of the men, who went and tossed more wood into the bonfire. As if a switch had been pulled, instant silence swept over the area as all heads turned to the table.

Mibuchi rose. 

“For centuries, the five kingdoms have kept the legend of the Zone alive,” he began, with a smooth and resounding voice that echoed in the night, “Through pain and hardship, plague and war. Even now, under the crushing shadow of the Teikou, these ancient tales continue, never silenced.”

He paused as the crowd jittered with approval. 

“The story never changes. It’s the same one every year and all of you no doubt know it by heart. Yet tonight I hope to tell it again not for tradition’s sake, but as a reminder. I’m sure we can all agree that in times such as these, the necessity of keeping faith has never been so important. Whether this means taking up arms,” he turned, sending them a meaningful look, “Or remembering old stories.”

The crowd clapped, many of them calling loudly in agreement. When they settled again, Taiga saw Kiyoshi flash a pointed look at him, as if telling him to pay attention. 

Mibuchi slid around the table, walking up to the great fire.

“They say there is a star,” he said, “One that travels through the deepest depths of space and is as ancient as time itself. It has touched the Heavens, they say, and been bathed in the whitest of their lights. We know it, as the Zone.”

Taiga’s eyes widened and he could see Tatsuya doing the same.

“Who can guess how many times it has passed our little planet by,” Mibuchi continued, voice lowering, so that the kids at the front sat rapt with attention, “Save for that day, twenty-one years ago, when it did not.”

There was a sharp crackling sound. The flames seemed to grow in size. 

“We saw the six lights cross the sky, scattering throughout the kingdoms in search of the ones they had chosen,” Mibuchi raised his arm, gesturing at the darkness above, “The tale goes that six children born that day were changed. Touched by a light of the Zone, they were plucked from the tides of humanity and released from all its fragilities, for the Zone opened doors far beyond the limits of mere Man. Call it a blessing or a curse, call it whatever you want, but we all know them under one title. One name.”

Nebuya suddenly stood up, taking a handful of powder from a small pouch and tossing it into the fire. The flames roared and climbed, and Mibuchi gave a dramatic flourish.

“The Generation of Miracles.”

The crowd went wild, clapping and cheering. Cups were banged against the stone ground as children screamed in delight. Kiyoshi and Izuki looked awed at the presentation and even Hyuuga seemed impressed. His brother clapped politely, fascination shining in his eyes. 

Only Taiga was still. 

Like an old ghost, the memory came, breathing ice down the edges of his mind.

“ _Hey,_ ” a boy whispered, face swathed in shadow, “ _Do you believe in Miracles?_ ”


	10. Anything that's left

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which none of the Miracles attend the Zone Ceremony.

_During the first winter on the run, they almost starve to death._

_It was a bitter irony. That though they knew twenty-one ways to kill a man, they did not know which berries could be eaten, how to catch fish or skin game or keep warm in the dark._

_That despite all the beatings and drug trials and endless_ endless _tests, it would be freedom they could not survive._

_“Do you think it’ll hurt?” Kise said, back pressed to a withered tree. The grass around them had blackened with frost, suffocating under the air’s cold weight._

_Next to him, Midorima’s eyes were closed--his sunken face bone-white._

_“It might.”_

_Silence._

_“Oh,” Kise said, looking up at the clouds, “I don’t know how to die.”_

_Aomine let out an empty chuckle. He sat on the trail, too exhausted to even crawl out of the wind’s path, while Murasakibara lay on his side a few feet away, unmoving. Every so often, small wisps of his breath escaped into the air._

_“The hell are you talking about?” Aomine rasped, “It’s not hard to die._

_On instinct, Kuroko lifted his head to snap at him, to deny death even as he saw it looming in the space around them. But he was tired too and they were all sick of lies, and so he let the words—all of them—expire in his throat._

_Even the ones that kept saying it didn’t have to end here._

_The only food in winter lay in the cellars and villas of nobles. Caches with fragile locks and guards who drank too much. Fat aristocrats who’d never seen a drop of blood in their lives._

_It would have been so, so easy._

_Kuroko silenced the thought, even though he knew it would be back. Even though it had wormed its way into all their heads a while ago, running again and again in a crazed loop. It caused an ache to form in Kuroko’s chest, something akin to disappointment._

_In a way, he supposed he had expected that part of them to be another construct of Teikou’s—a cruelty forced into being, one they could leave behind in the walls of that old crumbling kingdom._

_Strange, how foolish that sounded to him now. Guilt and blood and monsters didn’t just disappear by closing one’s eyes. Nothing was changed by being sorry._

_Perhaps, it did have to end here after all._

_Perhaps, this was only what was due._

__I don’t know how to die.

_“We are not dying.”_

_Akashi stood, his fiery hair and eyes shadowed by the sun filtering through the branches. Hunger had carved its way into him as well, but his back was held straight and tall, his voice cut from steel._

_He looked at them, gaze sweeping across like a wave. He looked at Kuroko._

_“I’m going to that village,” he said, very simply._

_And then he was gone before Kuroko could ask why…_

\------------------------------------------------------------

The headman’s house was a large and handsome affair, made from fine timber beams and chiseled stone. It had two floors and a terrace out front similar to the shop’s, minus the odds and ends of Midorima’s lucky items or Murasakibara’s equipment.

There were no decorations, no flowers or plants. In fact, if not for the weeded yard and the dusted windows, no one could’ve guessed anyone lived here at all. 

As if to match the building’s outer appearance, the rooms inside were all pretty much undecorated too, consisting mainly of a modest, almost untouched kitchen area, a more decent-sized sitting room and one spotless bathroom. 

There was nothing much in the way of furniture either, save for a smattering of basic items like chairs and tables. The air was almost sterile and smelled of polish and wood. It was an imposing, impersonal place, not unlike its owner, and Kuroko could not blame Watabe for his clear discomfort as his eyes darted about. 

“I think I understand,” he said to the older man, offering a smile, “So you lived on the leeward side of Kiseki Mountain. It’s no wonder Aomine-kun found you and Hiro-kun.”

“Y-Yes, after the Emperor put out that food tariff, we were having trouble putting enough on the table. I thought I could maybe find something up here. B-But the forest was so thick and dark. I…I didn’t know there were sentinels up here either. If Aomine-kun hadn’t brought us to this town, we wouldn’t have lasted the night.” 

As the man spoke, Kuroko’s eyes slid to his left, observing Akashi. Although the redhead was near expressionless, Kuroko let out an inward sigh as he caught the slightest downward tug of his lips.

Akashi had never wanted to form a town, or even stay in the mountain for so long. He was still convinced they needed to keep running—as hard and fast and as far as they could—that there was no such place as “safe” or “home.” Sometimes, Kuroko wondered if he didn’t prefer they vanish from this plane entirely.

“Well, thank you for explaining the situation,” he said, standing, “We’ll think of something to help your people. In the meantime, the Zone Ceremony is tonight isn’t it? You should go enjoy yourself and not worry for now. I’m sure the Seirin members will be attending too.”

Watabe’s eyes widened and he grabbed Kuroko’s arm as they walked toward the front door. 

“Seirin! They’re known for fighting the sentinels right? M-Maybe you can ask them to—“

“No.” 

Akashi was suddenly next to them. Kuroko’s eyes narrowed as he steadied Watabe, who jumped.

“B-But if they’re willing to act as escorts, my entire village could get through the mountain.” 

“Perhaps,” Akashi said honestly, “But there’s too much risk involved.”

Watabe’s eyes widened. “ _Risk?_ You would leave all those people to—you can’t—”

His words broke off when Akashi turned to him, gaze bright as wildfire. 

“I can. If there is even the slightest chance that the Teikou will take interest, I assure you, I am capable of anything.” 

Watabe paled. Kuroko pushed him forward before he could respond. 

“Your son is probably looking for you, Watabe-san. Please enjoy the ceremony,” he said, blocking Akashi from view as best he could, “We will speak again. I promise.”

He slid the door shut without waiting for a reply, staring at the wood until he heard Watabe’s footsteps reluctantly move away. 

“That was unnecessary.”

Kuroko turned. Akashi stood where he’d been halted, his hands tucked into his billowing sleeves. 

“I don’t think it was. Normal people can only handle so much of you at a time.”

Akashi stared at him. “I meant promising to speak about this again. Moving an entire village in is barely feasible, let alone logical. I’ve humored you with this meeting, but my decision stands.”

“You haven’t even heard my idea yet.”

“Hn,” Akashi’s eyes narrowed, “I don’t need to. We were lucky enough that the sentinels Seirin encountered were destroyed before they could send feed to the empire. Things will not go so well next time.”

“And what if I guaranteed they wouldn’t be seen?”

A single crimson brow rose. 

At the unspoken question, Kuroko explained, “Watabe-san said his village has about thirty people. That’s far less than the amount I usually cover. I can climb down and lead everyone back to Kiseki without trouble from the sentinels.”

Akashi blinked once, slowly. “So you are suggesting I let you return to Teikou lands?”

 _You can’t stop me_ , was at the tip of Kuroko’s tongue, but he bit it back with some force. The effort was a largely pointless one, as Akashi chuckled a second later. 

“I don’t need to be able to read you to tell what you’re thinking right now,” he said, with a note of resignation, “You are correct. I can’t stop you. I’ve never been able to.”

His face darkened.

“But that doesn’t apply to the others.” 

The whole room seemed to cool by degrees. Kuroko’s expression remained calm, even as his fists subtly clenched. The chasm between them began to open again, the stubbornness in both of them flaring up like an old wound. 

“Akashi-kun—”

“You don’t understand the mountain well enough to navigate all those people through,” he said, stated like the fact that it was, “You’ll need one of the others to go with you and I’m afraid that’s not happening.” 

Silence.

“I’d prefer you let them decide for themselves.” 

Akashi smiled. “Why? My orders are absolute and they _will_ obey me in the end. It doesn’t matter what they decide. You know that.”

His right eye flickered—a hint of gold appearing that set the alarms off in Kuroko’s head. Like usual, he ignored them. There wasn’t any part of Akashi that frightened him. Not even the parts that really should have. 

“I know you promised never to use it against them.” 

The smile faded. Akashi’s shoulders twitched, as if he’d felt the words sink right through his skin like a blade. A silent beat passed as they stared at each other, before his eye faded back to a tired red. 

“ _I_ promised. Not…” he frowned, sighing, “You haven’t accepted it yet. This is the way it has to be.” 

Kuroko’s eyebrows furrowed. The hint of patronization, no matter how unintentional, grated on his nerves. 

“It doesn’t,” he said, curt, “It wouldn’t be if you’d just listen to me for once.”

Akashi blinked, eyes narrowing, “Me? All I’ve done these past five years is listen to you. I agreed to this town and these people, did I not? I let in every single person Aomine ever found in the mountain, even with sentinels only a breath away. I agreed to shops and radio lines and that pointless ceremony. Everything, because you wanted me to. How are you not satisfied?” 

“Because you still won’t see it,” Kuroko said, fists white as frustration began coloring his tone, “Kiseki is blatant proof that we can change things.” 

Akashi sighed and shook his head. 

“Not this again,” It was an old song and dance that they were both quite sick of. “You think too simply.”

“This is why we’re here,” Kuroko pressed, “This is what people believe in us for.”

“It’s just a story.” 

“Shirogane-san didn’t think so.”

They both froze. Akashi’s eyes narrowed in warning.

“You are testing me today. If we are found—”

“Then we’ll fight back! We can’t spend our whole lives being afraid—“

Akashi closed the distance between them within seconds. Kuroko flinched at the sudden proximity, almost tripping before an icy hand grabbed his wrist and tugged him up.

“No,” Akashi whispered, eyes wide, enough that Kuroko could see every brilliant speck of color, “If they find us, we’ll either be dead or wish we were.” 

His hand clenched, nails digging into Kuroko’s soft skin.

“I told you a long time ago. We are not dying. Not then, not now and not _here_ ,” he whispered, breath hot as flames, “We’ll run again if we have to. Further than before. Across the sea, the sky, until no one can catch even the ends of our shadows. Until every soul has forgotten our names."

“I don’t accept that,” Kuroko snapped, wincing as he tried to yank his hand back in vain. Akashi’s hold was near-crushing. “It…It isn’t right to—“

“We don’t owe anyone anything,” Akashi hissed, impatience evident for the first time, “Let go of this illusion. We were young and didn’t know what we were. They used us. There’s no reason to feel guilty or responsible, because it wasn’t our fault.”

Blood-red eyes flickered with gold again. Akashi looked like he wanted to shake the sense into him. 

“The world was always going to break, Kuroko,” he said, “Who ended up doing it makes no difference.”

The pressure was overwhelming. Kuroko squeezed his eyes shut, a tiny pained whisper slipping through his lips. 

“...you’re hurting me…”

Akashi stilled. Kuroko opened his eyes, catching the shadow in his expression scatter. The gold in his eye receding, vanishing, replaced by shock so intense it was like it had never been there. His hand was dropped a second later. 

“I…” Akashi backed away, face pale, “That wasn’t…”

“I know.”

Kuroko cradled his wrist, the area aching and faintly bruised. He looked Akashi in the eye. 

“It’s okay.”

\------------------------------------------------------------

The remains of the Emperor’s sentinels had congealed into a mess of scrap metal and frayed wires. Almost every single unit had been drilled by guns, the burnt outlines of each hole telling of an iron bullet. Lubricant had blackened the grass beneath where they were stacked, all splayed limbs and lidless eyes, displayed like a message from a cruel warlord.

Kise whistled, a hand shadowing his eyes as he leaned forward on the branch.

“Is that the pile Seirin took out? Holy shit. And you still think they don’t know what they’re doing, Aominecchi?”

Instead of replying, Aomine just crossed his arms, back against the trunk. Something like bemusement flickered in his indigo eyes.

“Neeee, can we go back now?” Murasakibara called from below, “I’m hungry.”

“We should be on our way,” Midorima agreed, standing stiffly next to Kise as he raised his glasses. His glowing eyes shifted in an arc from left to right as he scanned the area. “I don’t see any more sentinels and we’ve covered the entire perimeter.”

“Huh? Already?” Kise swiveled his head around as if he could actually measure the distance that way, “Whoa, it use to take hours to finish a sweep this big.”

“It’s only natural. We were sixteen the last time all four of us came out here.”

They went silent, the memory unreeling before them. _(The night had been a wet and dense one. They’d crept through the brush, animal-like, soaked in mud and dizzy on adrenaline. Searchlights blinked in the fog, men shouted, the smell of terror and blood in the forest as they killed and killed and killed)_

Aomine scoffed, looking away.

“Who cares how long it took. At least we were careful. Don’t they know sentinels have camera feeds attached? How could they leave all this here?” 

“Aominecchi,” Kise shook his head, “They were running for their lives. Stop being petty.” 

While Aomine glared at him, Midorima frowned from the other side. “Why are you acting like this, Aomine? You were the one risking life and limb to save them.” 

Before he was answered, Kise helpfully supplied again, “Well, Kurokocchi might have had a thing or two to do with it.”

“Oi!”

“What? It’s true isn’t it?”

Midorima blinked. “…Kuroko?” 

Faint comprehension dawned on him a second later. As strange and meaningless as it was, Aomine’s feelings toward Kuroko had been no secret. 

“That explains it at least,” he said, “I always wondered why you searched for stranded people up here so actively. Not that it’s my concern, but I doubt this is an effective method to impress him.”

Something flickered in Aomine’s eye.

“It…It wasn’t about impressing—“ 

“Like you would know anything about how to impress someone, Midorimacchi,” Kise said, snorting, “I swear I get ulcers just watching you and Takaocchi sometimes.”

Midorima’s gaze switched to the blonde. “...What are you talking about? Takao and I just work together.”

Kise gave him a tragic look and flapped his hand. It was his typical nonsense and Midorima rolled his eyes, despite the small and weird curiosity that lingered. Before he could pursue it however, there was a sudden “thwump” that made the whole branch rock. 

Leaves showered down over a blinking Aomine and Midorima, while Kise yelped, grabbing onto the trunk for stability.

“M-Murasakibaracchi! What are you doing?!”

The giant crouched down, hands resting on his knees, “Weeell, you guys were taking too long. I wanna know what you’re talking about.”

Despite his massive frame, he perched easily on the branch, the shade of the canopy casting a violet glint to his eyes. The limb quivered however and there was the distinct and ominous sound of creaking wood. Kise flailed again, grabbing onto Midorima’s shoulder for extra balance.

Aomine sighed.

“We were just comin’,” he said, giving Murasakibara a bland look, “Get your big ass down before you break the branch.”

“It’ll hold,” Murasakibara drawled, not looking the least concerned, “I’m not that heavy.”

“I think all our necks are about to tell you otherwise.”

“Ehh, Mine-chin is so delicate,” Murasakibara said, grinning lazily as Aomine sputtered, “Besides, you wanted to check the glade right? Shouldn’t we do that before Kuro-chin’s Overflow begins?”

At the words, all three of them paused.

“His barrier isn’t even working,” Midorima said, trying to steady himself while Kise clung to him, “Overflow can’t be in effect.”

Murasakibara tilted his head. “Hmm, I think it is though.”

With a long arm, he gestured up towards the mountaintop. The other three turned, staring blankly for a minute before their eyes widened. 

Directly over the peak, something like a black ripple had formed in the air, stretching beyond the edges of their vision. The horizontal line it created was spindly and jagged, almost like a crack in the sky, and it flickered like a flame. 

For a second or two, it simply wavered in place, before beginning to move, grazing over the crags of the mountain like a giant scanner. They watched as it travelled steadily down the slope and through the first few clumps of trees. Footprints and snapped branches cleared as it passed, the torn-up areas of the earth smoothing into flat ground again. 

The pile of broken sentinels vanished as if it never were, leaving the grass green and sparkling.

Midorima’s jaw tightened. Misdirection Overflow.

“Shit,” Aomine muttered and straightened. With effortless grace, he flipped off the branch and landed on the ground, barely stirring the dust.

“You guys hurry up!” he called over his shoulder. 

“Ah, wait! You haven’t even told us what’s going on yet!” Kise yelled, following suit. 

Midorima sighed, skating down the trunk’s side. The Overflow ripple was even larger from the ground, a gleaming blackness in the distance. He couldn’t understand why it was there. 

Murasakibara landed behind him, having simply jumped. 

“Mido-chin, does this mean Kuro-chin’s broken?”

The thought of that was near laughable. Midorima shook his head, turning to where Aomine and Kise had already vanished. 

“Someone like him would never break so easily.”

\------------------------------------------------------------

Kuroko leaned back against Akashi’s chair, gaze on the ceiling. The Ceremony was about to begin and the great fire’s light had flooded in through the window, dancing along the walls and paneling of the dark room. 

Outside, he could hear the crackling of wood being tossed into the pile, the humming of voices as people gathered in the square. Almost inevitably, Kuroko’s thoughts strayed to Kagami, if he was there already and how he perceived it all. Maybe he was looking for him.

 _He’s probably more interested in the food though._ A small smile curved on Kuroko’s lips and his eyes softened. Despite Seirin’s altruistic reputation, he’d been genuinely surprised when Kagami had turned to shield him that night, teeth clenched and eyes wide, as if he were fully ready to die in one of the most excruciating ways that existed for the sake of a total stranger. 

For someone who did not deserve to be saved anyway. 

Kuroko’s smile faded and he looked down at his right arm, the one Kagami had taken when the B unit appeared in the glade. Akashi had left bruises across the wrist, a ring of purpling marks signaling burst vessels and loss of control. 

He prodded it for a moment, marveling at the contrast with his ghost-white skin. Then he cupped his free hand, closed his eyes and beckoned. The familiar chill appeared within seconds, like a slumbering beast rising from the depths. It floated through his veins, seeping up and out of his pores.

Kuroko opened his eyes again, hand now covered in the black ripples of Overflow. 

Lifting it, he gave a quick wave over his wrist, watching the bruises vanish and the dull ache fade into nothing. After rotating it a few times, Kuroko stood and turned toward the stairs. 

He found Akashi in his room, one of the smallest in the entire house. Bookshelves lined the walls from end to end and the scent of fresh parchment lingered in the air. Akashi stood at the long window, back facing the door.

“You’re still here,” he said quietly.

Kuroko walked in, shuffling up next to him, “Why wouldn’t I be? I told you it was okay. Look.”

Akashi’s eyes shifted slightly, peering down. When he saw the healed wrist, he turned fully, hand sliding beneath Kuroko’s smaller one to hold it up. 

“…You used Overflow again.” 

“Yes,” Kuroko said, trying for a weak smile, “Unfortunately, instant regeneration is an ability I was excluded from.”

Akashi didn’t smile back. 

“You could overexert yourself.” 

Ordinarily, such a comment would have lit Kuroko’s temper again, if he hadn’t noticed how pale Akashi had become. The gold in his eyes was gone without a trace and his brows had furrowed, remorse whispering in every line.

Kuroko breathed out, turning his hand so he could intertwine his fingers around Akashi’s, holding tight when they jolted.

“I’m not so fragile,” he said, tone firm, “And I know my limits. I’ve been using Overflow on the mountain for years, haven’t I?” 

It was a fair point and Kuroko saw the heaviness of Akashi’s shoulders lighten slightly.

“I wish you didn’t do that as well.”

Kuroko shook his head, pulling them down to sit on the bed. “It gives you peace of mind,” he said, “Plus, whenever Aomine-kun gets caught in it, he gets a free cleaning. It’s like killing two birds with one stone.” 

At this, Akashi finally cracked a smile. Kuroko took a moment to cherish it before it inevitably faded away.

“Aomine saved those Seirin members because you asked him to.”

Kuroko folded his hands in his lap, watching the silhouettes outside mingle and dance. It occurred to him that most, if not all of them, were there because of Aomine.

“Maybe,” he said, smiling, “I did ask him but…I think Aomine-kun had reasons of his own.”

Akashi didn’t reply to that. They were quiet for a moment before he spoke again, changing the subject. “He still has feelings for you.”

Kuroko kept his eyes on the window. “I know.”

“…Perhaps it’s better if…”

He turned around, meeting Akashi’s crimson gaze. “No, I can’t lie to him like that. He isn’t…it would not be what he wants. What I want.”

“I can’t give you what you want either,” Akashi said softly. 

The air stilled between them. Kuroko could feel the words launch themselves into his chest, seeking out every vulnerable area that had not already hardened with expectation. The memory of Momoi at sunset flashed across his mind and he thought of how ironic it was, for someone who broke so many hearts to have his own broken repeatedly in turn. 

“I…” he swallowed, “…I’m aware. You have made it abundantly clear over the years.”

Akashi said nothing and in a rare moment, looked away first. Kuroko didn’t know if he imagined the instant of hesitation in his eyes or not. Five years of waiting could waver even the most stubborn of certainties. 

“You can ask the others to go with you.” 

Kuroko blinked. 

Before he could think to respond however, Akashi gave a deep sigh.

“To Watabe-san’s village. If you explain fully and they agree, then I won’t stop you.”

Kuroko stared, not sure if he even heard correctly. 

“Thank you…” he still thought to say after a moment.

“Don’t thank me for sending you on your death march,” Akashi said simply, crossing his arms with a tired expression, “Also if you insist on this, there’s something I want you to do.” 

Quickly, Kuroko nodded. “Of course.”

Akashi paused for a moment, as if trying to find the proper words.

“I want you to bring back all of them,” he said, lips pursing when Kuroko’s eyes widened, “Don’t worry about the space. I won’t have Watabe-san at my door again because you failed to keep track of someone. Perfection is expected.” 

Kuroko nodded again, warm pooling in his stomach.

“I will,” he said, “Thank you. I promise to make it up to you.” 

Akashi made a dismissive noise. “Unless you plan on changing your mind, I doubt it.”

“Really? How about a kiss?”

Two red eyes swiveled back to him. Kuroko blinked, expression blank and wholesomely innocent. The wry light in Akashi’s expression spoke volumes.

“Who do you think I am? Kise? I can’t just—“

Kuroko didn’t let him finish. Leaning forward, he wrapped his hands over Akashi’s shoulders and pressed their lips together. He could feel Akashi stiffen beneath him, taste his shock through the touch of their skin. 

It lasted all of it second before Akashi was kissing back. 

Cool, smooth hands reached up to cradle the sides of Kuroko’s face. A gentle tongue grazed the crease of his mouth, beckoning entry. It intertwined with Kuroko’s own when he parted his lips, wrapping tight like the closing of a rose. Akashi tasted like snow and fire, he smelled of tea leaves and sorrow.

When they parted at last they were both gasping. Heat bloomed thick across the surface of Kuroko’s face.

“I guess this means you can,” he whispered, neither receiving an answer nor expecting one. Though his legs had suddenly lost all feeling, he tried to stand. “Well, shall I be off then…?”

Akashi pulled him back down. 

“Stay the night,” he said, in a voice that brooked no argument.

Kuroko nodded, obedient for once. “Okay.”

They were falling back onto the bed before he’d even finished speaking. Akashi’s fingers slid over the buttons of his shirt, undoing them with mind-boggling grace. The dim lantern light of the room shadowed Akashi’s face as it hovered over his.

Only when the great fire outside swelled did Kuroko catch the profile of Akashi’s features, the rings of light in his eyes and the sweep of his crimson hair. Mibuchi’s voice exclaimed from somewhere in the distance.

_“The Generation of Miracles.”_

Akashi’s mouth thinned into a bloodless line. Kuroko looked up with large, staring eyes. 

“Interesting name they gave us.”

“We can’t be what they want,” Akashi replied, almost to himself, “I can’t be what _you_ want.”

There was a pause. Then Kuroko reached up, hooking his hands around the curve of Akashi’s neck.

“You don’t have to be,” he whispered, “Just give me anything you have…”

…Anything that’s left.

Bemused red eyes observed him and for a moment, Kuroko wondered if they saw a fool. 

Then those lips, in all their alien beauty, were descending to greet his own.

\------------------------------------------------------------

_…Akashi came back at sundown._

_There were bundles of food under both of his arms, wrapped tight in twine and cloth. Meat and fruits and loaves of bread._

_He was soaked in blood up to his elbows._

_Akashi placed the packages on the frosted ground. He met his pallid gaze._

_“Do you find me cruel, Kuroko?”_

_In hindsight, he had never ended up answering._

_Though he supposed that in itself was answer enough._


	11. The Generation of Miracles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the past is prodded at like an old wound.

_They attacked Kaijou in the spring._

_Akashi arranged them into a basic formation with Daiki and Murasakibara on the ground while Kise and Midorima moved as snipers. The objective was to take out the main outposts, leaving Kaijo’s outer areas vulnerable to invasion. It was a simple plan with brutal efficiency—Akashi’s usual style._

_They rolled out a map in the grass, the edges peeling and yellow, the kingdoms pieced together like a mismatched quilt. Teikou was a small dot painted black in the north. Daiki imagined its reach extending out, black tendrils spreading disease through the lands._

_“Enter here,” Akashi said, pointing to the coastline, “Minimize casualties if you can, but I want you back by tonight. Failure will not be tolerated.”_

_It was the only farewell they got from him._

_Kaijou smelled of the sea, the salty breeze sweeping inland in cool waves. Wildflowers and sweet grass adorned the hillsides. The people in the village were distant, undefined shapes, moving from place to place._

_“So small,” Murasakibara said._

_He was leaning over the bluff, his huge body bent forward. The tilt of his head caused violet hair to fall over his eyes—a shade brighter than usual with curiosity. His teeth grinded against the end of a lollipop stick, scraping and sucking._

_He looked alien. Like the air and water and grass wouldn’t hold him. Like his palms could come down and crush the land flat. It wasn’t that far off, Daiki supposed. He probably looked the same. None of them belonged here._

_“Come on,” he muttered, turning away._

_Kaijou smelled of the sea—a scent mixed well with sand and softness and steel. The sun was warm, the air clean. Something breathlessly cold kept Daiki’s gaze down. He didn’t look, even though he should have._

_Because come afternoon, there wasn’t much to look at anymore._

_Daiki coughed, a wet hissing noise trapped in his throat, as dried blood flaked off black from his cheek. He’d slashed a Kaijou soldier across the belly, having no idea the guts would go spurting out like a hose. Or that a disemboweled man could live long enough to stare him straight in the eyes._

_“God,” the soldier had rasped, “What are you?”_

_There’d been such horror in the question. And pity._

_“Hell if I know.”_

_Murasakibara’s shadow casted over him. “Stop talking, Mine-chin.”_

_With a surgeon’s delicacy, the giant lifted up another stone beam. It was slow-going, digging him out, and the heap that had fallen on him was piled under additional rubble. Already, Daiki could feel his bones twist and shift, trying to knit back together but having no room to maneuver. It fucking hurt._

_“You couldn’t have just sent them flying or something,” he said, teeth gritted, “You HAD to level the whole damn place.”_

_“I told you not to stand so close,” Murasakibara whined, “And besides, why didn’t you get away?”_

_As if he was suppose to be able to “get away” from the earth cracking beneath him. Before he could form the scathing retort however, the pillar trapping his leg rolled the wrong way. Daiki’s mouth parted, but he didn’t recall if he screamed or not before his vision curled and darkened._

_Distorted images of the past few hours staggered before him. He saw the dark crack in the earth as it had split and Murasakibara’s eyes, wild and helpless, as mortar and stone crumbled and fell like toy blocks._

_It’d been so loud, as if the whole sky was coming down. Men screamed and swore, dropping their weapons. They ran, blindly, and then were crushed minutes later. No one could escape Murasakibara. He was a mountain of unmolded power—a weapon yet to be claimed. Teikou would never let him, or any of them, go._

_The pictures before Daiki swirled and bled out. A voice echoed in the dark, cold and thin._

__There is only one thing you will ever need to know about what you are, _Sanada Naoto’s face appeared, his eyes pinpricks of hungry light behind the glint of his glasses._ You belong to Teikou, child. This is your purpose and your place and the sooner you come to accept it, the more at peace you will be. 

_Black mirth filled Daiki._

_Peace his ass. He’d followed orders and heeded instruction. He’d done what they wanted, killed who they wanted, and he wasn’t at peace. Seeing the faces of dead people every single night did not seem like fucking peace to him._

_Damn it…DAMN IT…_

_The crushing pressure lifted. A heavy but gentle hand curled around his shoulder, sitting him up with ease. Daiki blinked and the world flooded back. Murasakibara was staring down at him, a hint of startled concern on his brow._

_“Mine-chin?”_

_Daiki planted a hand on the ground, feeling his body’s many fractures melding back into place even as he pushed Murasakibara away._

_“Let go.”_

_Hesitation crossed Murasakibara’s face, though he did release him, long solid fingers relinquishing their grip on his shoulder. Daiki sat up fully, running a hand through his dusty hair and assessing the damage. His clothes were beyond salvation, stained with dirt and blood and who knows what else. Daiki swore. He was definitely going to get beat for this._

_“Are you okay?” Murasakibara whispered._

__No.

_His busted lip sealed in a ream of white smoke. Daiki wiped blood from his chin. “Fine.”_

_“I didn’t mean to,” Murasakibara blurted, “I-I didn’t know how to stop. I’m sorry.”_

_His expression had crumpled and the same hands that could shatter brick, cement and bones were twitching and pulling at his tattered shirt._

_Daiki stared at them and sighed. “I know. It wasn’t your fault.”_

_Murasakibara did not look even remotely comforted. His eyes roamed the ruins of Kaijou’s village, wide and child-like. Whatever he was thinking though, he never did say._

_\---_

__Daiki weaved through the trees, the nightscape rushing by him in ribbons of silver and green. He heard the patter of water as he darted across the surface of the stream, the minute droplets not quick enough to touch him.

The wreckage Murasakibara had left behind had vanished, the uprooted trees and crushed sentinels gone without a trace. Even their footprints in the marshy earth had disappeared, as if wrinkles smoothed out of fabric. Daiki swore beneath his breath. He couldn’t believe he’d forgotten about Tetsu’s damn Overflow. If it had already touched the glade…

He was spared the finish to that thought, when the moonlit fringe of open grass came into view. Daiki’s eyes widened at the stench of metal and smoke still lingering in the air. Pock marks covered what ground he could make out, crevices made where pieces of the B unit had bounced across. 

Relief pulsed through him and he sped up even further. Unless the birds had acquired a taste for charred metal and slime, the sentinel’s remains would still be there. He’d haul all of it back to town and find out for sure what the hell happened that night. If Tetsu had lied or not. And whether there was something actually weird about Kagami Taiga…or if Daiki had just been a jealous asshole. 

At least that’d been the plan anyway.

“Shit!” Daiki skidded to a sharp halt, dragging a deep line in the ground. Alien screeches filled the night as the sentinels trickled out of the foliage, the darkness blurring their bodies into one giant amorphous swarm. Daiki’s knuckles whitened as the inky eyes locked onto him, focusing and scanning. A subtle hum mounted in the air before each sentinel began to quiver, a visible shift present as they moved into acquisition mode.

They really could see him. 

Tetsu’s barrier was gone.

A yellow blur streaked by him. “What’s wrong, Aominecchi?” Kise’s smug grin flashed across his vision. “Tired already?” 

Daiki’s eyes bulged. “Idi—Sto—IN FRONT OF YOU!”

The garbled warning was too late. Kise turned, baffled, only to scream bloody murder a second later as the wall of sentinels swiped at him.

Purple light streamed around his body as Kise crashed into the robots, sending three to the ground just by colliding into them. 

“Oh my god, shit, shit, _shit_ ,” he chanted, the violet glow fading as he scrambled to his feet and backwards to Daiki’s side, “Why didn’t you say anything, goddamn it?!”

“I was fucking trying! Why didn’t YOU watch where you were going?”

There was a rustle and thud behind Kise before he could retort. Midorima and Murasakibara appeared, gaping at the massive clump of robotic limbs and faces. 

“…I think you’re wrong, Mido-chin,” Murasakibara declared, “Kuro-chin’s definitely broken.” 

Whatever that meant, Midorima nodded blankly. 

“Perhaps.”

“You guys are slow,” Daiki snapped, “And don’t say shit like that so casually.”

They gave him odd looks. “It’s simply the truth. They wouldn’t even have been interested in coming this far if Misdirection was still working.”

“Would saying Kuro-chin isn’t _working_ be better, Mine-chin?” 

“I wouldn’t assume _that_ ,” Kise interjected, ever helpful, “Kurokocchi probably works fine. He just massively screwed up somehow.” 

Midorima and Murasakibara stared at the blonde, wholly unimpressed. Daiki slumped in defeat, an annoyed sigh breezing past his teeth. There wasn’t time for this crap. 

“Look, we’ll figure out what’s wrong with Tetsu when we get back,” he said, blue light gathering across his fingers, “Let’s just get this over with.”

He was about to take off when Midorima’s hand sprang out and stopped him. “It’s not that simple.”

“I beg to fucking differ—“

“They’re gathering from all sides,” Midorima’s gaze was raised towards the forest, looking straight into the pitch blackness, “I’m counting forty-five just scattered in the trees. The group facing us must be twice that.”

Stunned silence ensued. Daiki and Murasakibara stared. Kise was a bit more animated.

“Wait, wait,” he whipped towards the sentinels, almost falling over, “Haha, that was a joke right? _How_ many again?”

“One-hundred sixty-five approximately. Forty-one point two five each, assuming no more arrive,” Midorima said, his dead gaze on Daiki, “And I’m sure you’re aware, we can’t let them leave here. None of them.”

As he spoke, he pointed at the sea of glinting eyes; the whirl of focusing camera lenses almost audible. The atmosphere grew stifling with unspoken tension. They could only imagine the outcome if videos of their faces got back to Teikou. Akashi for one, would never let them stop running again. 

And with them gone, the town was as good as finished too, swallowed back into the empire’s darkness.

Daiki paled, as the sudden terrifying thought hit him full-force. He saw the great fire flash through his mind, lighting the many faces, every one filled with awe and faith. There was that asshole Wakamatsu, Imayoshi and his damn smirk, Susa and Ryo. And Satsuki…

Murasakibara of all people, gave it voice before he could. 

“Ne, shouldn’t we do something about the town? If they can see us then they’ll see Kiseki and Aka-chin doesn’t even know what’s going on.”

Midorima shook his head, lips pursed. “It doesn’t matter.”

“What are you talking about?” Kise said, eyes wide, “Of course it matters! The sentinels could wreck the place! God, if they touch even a strand on my Kasamatsucchi’s head, I’ll—“

“I _mean_ it won’t be targeted.” For a beat, his eyebrows knitted in visible debate before continuing, “Think about it. With four out of five Miracles here, the town means nothing to sentinels.” 

Daiki flinched hard. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Murasakibara and Kise do the same. No matter how many times he heard the title, it still sounded weird to him, like a fragment of himself that didn’t fit quite right.

But the argument at least made sense and Daiki let himself relax slightly. This was a far bigger hassle than he thought it’d be, but he was still relieved. His head had no space left for more ghosts. 

“Fine, it’s a good fucking thing we don’t sleep. What’s the plan?”

“The old formation Akashi had us in should work,” Midorima said shortly, “You two on the ground. Kise and I up high.”

He vanished into the dark as soon as he finished speaking, no doubt to ninja up the closest tree. After casting one final anxious look at the sentinels, Kise followed, leaving them alone.

Daiki released a sigh, glancing over minutely as a great shadow blanketed him. “Guess we’re the frontlines again.”

Murasakibara shrugged, “Like old times, right Mine-chin?” 

There was a small note of sobriety in the drawl. Daiki gave a tired snort, flicking his wrist. The clean ring of an unsheathing blade was stark in the mounting silence. 

“Yeah, big guy. Old times.” 

_BANG_

Shots ran through the treetops as the limp bodies of sentinels tumbled from the branches—each one drilled through with holes. Their counterparts on ground level screeched, eyes flickering, and as if a trigger had been pulled, they began to advance. 

Murasakibara took a step forward and Daiki did not so much see the earth crack under his foot, than feel it tremble and give. Scorching wind flooded down from nowhere, the edge of it grazing hot across his neck. Daiki barely stopped himself from shuddering, from taking a step back. 

“Mine-chin,” Murasakibara murmured, not looking at him, “If I can’t…If I…just…You’ll move this time, right?”

A wisp of fear lingered in his tone. Something like a memory. 

Daiki turned away.

“Relax, I will.”

\--- 

Kuroko woke before dawn. Eyes snapping back, he sat up, sheets sliding down his naked flesh as the bed frame creaked beneath him. A window had been cracked open, the faint breeze slipping through in a spread of rain and mountain air. 

Akashi was gone.

He’d only been asleep an hour, but the space next to him was empty, the surface unwrinkled.

Kuroko breathed out and slid from the bed, placing his feet on the wooden floor and feeling the tingling cold seep into his soles. One hand ran down his hair, making a half-hearted attempt to smooth it out, while the other reached for his shop uniform, still draped over the post.

With thin graceful fingers, Kuroko got dressed, folding up the bedding and sheets along the way before heading downstairs. Akashi wasn’t there either, though he had left the kettle brewing. 

Kuroko touched the glass curve with his fingers, a swirl of heat trickling down his skin. Small and made of fine black porcelain, it was the only thing Akashi had ever acquired just for himself. Yet for all its sentiment, it gave no hint of where he was or which way he’d gone. 

That was how it had always been between them. The empty side of the bed and the things unsettled, even the sting in his heart now. 

Kuroko lifted his hand, shaking his head to dispel the haze of self-pity trying to take shape. There were more important things to do than to wallow. 

Surveying the quiet house one final time, Kuroko slid the door open and exited.

The square had long been deserted, the crowds having finally dispersed at midnight. Somewhat grateful for the silence, Kuroko walked through the place, trying to formulate what he would say to the others about Watabe’s village and the sudden quest he was undertaking.

They would be shocked of course, and confused as always. Midorima and Murasakibara would not see the point in rescuing some thirty-odd strangers that’d bring only disadvantage and inconvenience. Kise would see, but not understand. 

Kuroko sighed, feeling his chest clench. He wasn’t mad at them. Teikou’s reach was far and deep and it was the only thing they’d ever known. Anger and frustration wouldn’t get him anywhere. All he could do was try harder to get through to them. 

Which left Aomine.

A fond, sad little smile grew on Kuroko’s face. 

Though his heart wondered at times, he didn’t regret rejecting Aomine. It’d been done for the sake of friendship and honesty and he couldn’t give him hope for something that would never be. 

Even if sometimes, Kuroko couldn’t help imagining how things might’ve been different. Akashi Seijuuro would never, ever simply vanish from his thoughts, but…it would’ve been nice to have someone who could love him back. Someone who could make him feel whole.

“Kuroko?”

He halted, thoughts shattering. About twenty feet away, a silhouette stood where the great fire had dwindled into cinders. Kuroko’s eyes widened, registering the fiery red hair. 

“Kagami-kun?”

\---

Taiga wasn’t sure what made him return to the town square. 

After the ceremony’s end at midnight, people had begun to rise, flowing back into the dark cabins they had trailed from. 

After their offers to help clean were rejected a third time, Captain Hyuuga had shaken hands with Mibuchi, before waving at them to get up. Kiyoshi filled the whole walk back with animated praise about the ceremony, receiving similar input from Izuki and Tatsuya.

“What about you, Kagami?” he asked, glancing at him with a smile, “You’ve been kinda quiet. Didn’t you like the story? I told you it was a good one.”

Taiga returned the smile weakly, steadying Kiyoshi as his senpai limped down the path. “Yeah, it was pretty cool.” 

He kept the memory of the boy to himself, even as he lingered in his thoughts, a perpetual shadow over his face. He probably shouldn’t have, but he did. The senpai already saw him as some damaged, half-broken kid they needed to tiptoe around. Freaky shit like that needed to be kept scarce.

Fortunately for his burning curiosity, Tatsuya had been interested enough to ask about the Miracles. 

“Oh, them,” Hyuuga sighed, as if he’d just been put in a difficult position, “Listen guys, I’m not trying to patronize, but don’t put too much stock in this Miracle business. The Zone star itself exists and it does fly by Earth every once and a while—that’s true. But the other talk about magic and superpowers and chosen children? It’s all just to get you through the day.”

Taiga’s eyes widened, while Tatsuya slumped, like he wasn’t sure whether to be surprised or resigned. Izuki sighed and shook his head.

“Thanks for the two cents, Hyuuga.”

“What? They’re grown-ass adults. I’m not gonna sugar-coat it for them.” 

“There’s never been any definitive proof one way or another.”

“Why would it be true, Izuki?” the captain snapped, “The Zone passed by twenty-one years ago. You think if all that crap about the Miracles was true we’d even be having this conversation? Would the whole goddamn world be rotting at the seams like this?”

“Stop it, Hyuuga,” Kiyoshi said, with rare disapproval, “Just because no one’s ever seen them, doesn’t mean they’re not real.”

The captain looked at him. Taiga would never forget how very cold his eyes had been.

“They better not be real,” he said, “Because if they are, then that means everything that’s happened, _every single fucking thing_ , happened because they let it happen. Because they didn’t give enough of a damn when they needed to.”

There was silence. Kiyoshi’s eyes strayed toward the ground. Izuki shook his head again and the captain just glared, tight-lipped, not looking particularly victorious. At the time, Taiga did not know what to say, only exchanging awkward glances with Tatsuya. And though he wasn’t one to put his faith in fairytales, Taiga couldn’t help feeling a small pulse of disappointment anyway. 

“It’s a shame, but I suppose it was just a story,” his brother had said, later in their room, “Oh well, more glory for us right?”

Taiga rolled his eyes, “Sure, we cram six to a tent while Riko-san has a threesome with Kiyoshi and Captain a couple feet from my head. Oh, the glory.”

A weird hiccough noise came from Tatsuya, the kind that said he wasn’t sure whether to crack up or feel scandalized. It still somehow managed to sound graceful.

“P—Probably should keep that tidbit to yourself. Hyuuga would burst something vital,” he half-snorted again, before managing to compose himself, “Anyway, I’m just saying don’t look so crestfallen. The possibility would’ve been awesome, but you’re still plenty cool.”

“Who the hell looks crestfallen? And what are you talking about?” 

His brother regarded him with a tragic expression. “I just knew you didn’t notice. The Zone star, Taiga. It came twenty-one years ago—when you were born.”

A beat of revelation passed. 

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” his brother grinned, nudging him, “So on the off chance it is all real, you’d still be in the running. My cute little bro could be a Miracle.”

With a scoff, Taiga batted him away. “You’re out of your damn mind.” 

But the idea, or at least an inkling of it, stayed with him the rest of the night, only separating when he tumbled into the terror and fire of his dreams. 

When he woke an hour later, breathless and sweating at the edge of dawn, it seemed far more ridiculous. 

Who was he anyway to think he was something special? He couldn’t even protect what had mattered to him. 

The next second, Tatsuya was stirring in the bed next to him and Taiga found himself scrambling out to avoid another uncomfortable chat.

And now he was here. The remains of the fire last night smoldered at his feet, Mibuchi’s powders still sprinkled in the ashes. Yellow and Green and Violet. Blue and Red.

Kuroko was staring at him with an expression akin to surprise.

“Kagami-kun?”

He nodded, smiling a little awkwardly. “Hey.”

“What are you doing up at this hour?” 

“Ah, couldn’t sleep.”

Concern flickered in Kuroko’s gaze. He walked over. Or Taiga supposed “floated over” was the more accurate term. “That’s no good. You were hurt very badly and need to rest.”

Pale eyes stared up at him, wide, like two small perfect moons. The complete randomness of such a stupid observation sent the blood rushing to his cheeks again and Taiga was grateful for the darkness.

“I-It’s fine. I got an hour or so in.”

“…Only an hour?”

Taiga blinked. 

“Oh yeah, uh, well…I’m kind of weird I guess. I’ve never needed much sleep…”

Kuroko tilted his head and Taiga felt himself blushing harder, even though it was the truth. For as long as he could remember, he had only needed about an hour to recharge and sometimes went weeks without any. Even when he tried to sleep more, he couldn’t and ended up staring at the ceiling until sunrise. 

The guys at Seirin took it in stride, though he could tell they found it strange. 

Alex too, use to freak out a lot about it. She always told him to keep it a secret, but never explained why. He wondered sometimes, if she had simply been unnerved. 

So it was with no small amount of confusion to Taiga, when Kuroko didn’t look startled or skeptical at all. 

“I see. That’s a relief then,” he said, studying him, “And it’s not weird. Being like that. You shouldn’t be sorry about who you are.”

Taiga stared, concealing his micro-flinch with a furrowed brow. “I’m not—I—A-Anyway, what are you doing up for?”

Kuroko gave a small, almost furtive smile. “We’re more similar than you think, Kagami-kun. I suppose you could say I don’t need much sleep either,” his gaze turned to the square, “A walk around town helps kill the time. And I enjoy the quiet that follows the Zone ceremony.”

 _You weren’t there though. I looked for you._ The words almost leaped from Taiga’s mouth, stopped only by his own vast awareness of how creepy it all sounded.

Obliviously, Kuroko continued, “You attended right? Mibuchi-san said he was requesting everyone from Seirin to go.” At Taiga’s nod, his expression became more apologetic. “I am sorry for missing it. There were a lot of things I’d hoped to introduce you to myself.”

The genuine disappointment in his voice made Taiga want to assuage him. 

“Don’t worry about it. It’s not like you have any obligation towards me.” He paused and looked down into the ashes. He had almost seen the ancient star streaking through the flames that night, in tandem with Mibuchi’s words, the six lights dividing to places unknown. 

“To be honest though, I’d never heard that story before.”

Rather than shock, Kuroko seemed rather bemused. “I thought all the kingdoms use to require their schools to teach it.”

Taiga stared into the soot. “Yeah, my…mom didn’t send us. We were pretty much always home-schooled and I guess it never occurred to her.”

Kuroko looked at him, and like he hadn’t really heard what Taiga was talking about at all, said simply, “Your mother?”

Taiga kept staring. “Yeah, mine and Tatsuya’s.” She had been—not technically, but in every way that mattered. 

“Does she travel with both of you?” 

“…No.”

Kuroko was quiet. A thin breeze swept by, ruffling through their hair and bringing the scent of wet mountain soil. “Where is she now?”

He could’ve said so many things then. Why the hell are you asking. None of your fucking business. Who knows, who knows. 

But what ended up tumbling out, as he’d come to realize would happen for most of his conversations with Kuroko, was the truth. 

“Gone.” 

The air stilled and whatever ash was stirred by the wind settled back into the pit.

“I’m sorry,” Kuroko said, with a heaviness that surpassed mere pity, “We lost someone too. A long time ago.”

Taiga looked up. “We?”

“The six of us,” a pale hand waved towards the gate, where Taiga could just make out the shop’s ghostly outline, “Maybe it was obvious, but we’ve known each other for a long time.”

Taiga nodded. Even he could see how familiar they were with each other, as if all different rivers leading to the same sea. He supposed he should’ve asked about the town then, how they’d done it and what had happened. But with the way Kuroko stood, shoulders slightly hunched, hands loose at his side, like a vast, invisible weight was threatening to crush him—it made Taiga hold his tongue. 

“You were raised together? Like me and Tatsuya?”

Kuroko’s lips curved and he kneeled down next to him. “Yes, a lot like you and Himuro-san,” the smile faded, “A man found us one by one. Our guardian of sorts. We called him Shirogane-san.”

Taiga’s eyes slid towards him at the name. It rang with faint familiarity, but he couldn’t quite pinpoint from where.

“He must’ve had a castle or something then, to keep all six of you. Some of you guys are freaking huge.”

“It was something like a castle,” Kuroko agreed softly, strangely, “And hard to forget. It was big like you said. Endless. You could hear voices through the walls and there were places in it where the sun never touched.”

Taiga's skin slightly prickled. “That’s a little morbid, don’t you think?” he said, joking weakly, “Still sounds better than living in a shanty with the rest of us.”

Kuroko turned and Taiga would remember his eyes then forever, how much they made him regret his words. It was only a flicker, but in that flicker was the deepest, most unfathomable pain Taiga had ever encountered. A loneliness that stretched out and out and dug grooves into his heart for reasons he couldn’t even understand. Kasamatsu’s words echoed in his head.

 _It was their eyes._

“I’m sorry,” Kuroko said, “I’ve never forgotten how people suffered back then.”

“What? No—“ Taiga fumbled, a distant corner of him pondering how Kuroko always seemed to be apologizing, “That’s not what I meant either. The Teikou had invaded, life was probably shit for everyone. You just got what you got and learned to accept it, whether you wanted to or not.”

Kuroko gave him another odd look, like he really was the most peculiar thing.

“You’re more thoughtful than I assumed, Kagami-kun.”

“WHAT—“

“—And you’re right,” Kuroko said, smiling at Taiga’s outrage, “Running from yourself doesn’t fix anything. Shirogane-san always tried to remind us of that.”

His pale face softened. “I honestly think he meant well. If he hadn’t gotten ill so early on then maybe…maybe things would be different now.”

Though he didn’t have the heart to say it, Taiga wasn’t sure how much different it would’ve been. Seirin had been trying for as long as he could remember, but they had yet to crawl out from under Teikou’s boot. In his bleakest moments, he wondered if anyone ever would. 

“Were you alone?” he asked instead, “After our mom, we wandered around for three years before Seirin took us in.” God, he still saw it too well for his own damn good. The frozen streets, the ratty clothes, Tatsuya’s trembling grip as he pulled him along through the alleys, dodging legs and hands and sometimes knives. 

Another flurry of wind streaked by them, howling in Taiga’s ear. Kuroko laughed, a jarringly bitter sound. “They would never have left us alone,” he said, “Shirogane-san’s replacement was appointed a day before he died. That’s when we met Sanada Naoto.”

The wind screamed again, louder, and Taiga had to shield his eyes as it stirred the ashes of the great fire. Some part of him questioned what the hell was up with the weather all of a sudden, but most of him was just confused. Appointed? Replacement? It wasn’t sounding anymore like a sad story about a decent man who took in six boys before dying on them in the end—the way he’d been picturing it. 

_BOOM_

The earth suddenly rippled beneath him. A flood of hot wind streamed in, whipping across Taiga’s face and hair. Doors and windows slammed open as people stuck their heads out, still confused and disheveled with sleep only to yelp and duck down at the gust. Taiga swore, barely keeping his footing as he calmed his heart before it could begin to ram. The sound, though deafening, had come from the distance. Somewhere in the mountain.

“What the fu—“ 

Kuroko ran past him in a dead sprint. He went so quickly that he was practically a blur, stepping right through the fire pit and towards the town gate. The fierceness of the wind almost made him stumble, but he didn’t stop. Taiga blinked.

“Wait, Kuroko!”

He didn’t of course. For a dumb second, Taiga stared as Kuroko’s slight form grew smaller and smaller into the distance. The colored powders had been left in a smattering trail behind him, a rainbow of footprints. 

Despite his first instinct to follow, something in Taiga kept his feet where they were. A gut feeling that told him Kuroko was going somewhere Taiga was not meant to be privy to, that he’d regret it if he followed.

Still though…if there was someone who needed help...

“Damn it,” Taiga said and ran, legs moving almost with a will of their own.

**Author's Note:**

> First fic for Knb, love this show so much~~! This will be a multi-chaptered story with the usual mix of Action/Adventure and a sprinkling of romance. Please let me know what you think in the comments and hope you enjoyed!


End file.
